


Be the Light in My Lantern

by starfishstar



Series: The Remus/Tonks stories [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, during order of the phoenix, what the adults of the Order were doing all that time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-06
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-02-16 04:23:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 76,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2255736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starfishstar/pseuds/starfishstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Remus and Tonks fight battles, arrest criminals, befriend werewolves, overcome inner demons and, despite it all, find themselves a happy ending. A love story, and a story of the Order years. (At long last, my Remus/Tonks epic, which has been years in the making!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Newest Member of the Order

**Author's Note:**

> The implication in canon (which has since, I admit, been confirmed on Pottermore) was that there was nothing between Remus and Tonks beyond friendship (and a bit of her trying to convince him to let it be something more) until she confronted him at the end of the sixth book…and then they were married before the seventh book even started.
> 
> I always found that hard to believe. Nor do I believe Tonks was depressed for an entire year just because she fancied Remus a bit, but he wouldn't reciprocate – there's got to be more behind it than that!
> 
> …And thus a book-length story was born.
> 
> It’s a story I’ve been oh so slowly writing over the course of several years, since before Pottermore even existed, so I hope you’ll humor me in the way I’ve completely ignored the Pottermore version of Remus and Tonks’ unfolding relationship during OotP and HBP – this is my take on another way it might have gone.
> 
> As always, I'm only playing in this fabulous sandbox, and anything you recognise is not mine. Eternal thanks go to JKR, for creating such a wonderful world.
> 
> My deepest thanks also to [stereolightning](http://archiveofourown.org/users/phalaenopsis/pseuds/stereolightning), whose thoughtful beta-reading, comments and questions have made this a better-developed story than it would otherwise have been. Any remaining flaws are of course my own.
> 
> (Oh, and yeah, I know it’s a little cheesy to start chapters with song quotes; it kind of started as an inside joke – you’ll see why in Chapter 8 – but at some point took on a life of its own, so I ran with it!)
> 
> Part One (covering all of OotP) is complete, 18 chapters in total, and I’ll be posting updates weekly. Part Two (covering all of HBP) is not yet entirely written, so there may be a hiatus between the end of posting Part One and the beginning of posting Part Two. I definitely think you can read Part One as a “novel” in its own right, though, and simply know that Part Two as its sequel will be coming later. 
> 
> The title of the story is from a song by one of my all-time favorite songwriters, Josh Ritter. The song, fittingly enough, is called "Lantern."
> 
> This has been a long, long labor of love, and I’m so pleased to finally be able to share it with you. And away we go!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Though you don't at all need to read it first, I think of "[What I Have Taken Long Before](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1463332)" as something of a prequel to this, because it moves Remus and Sirius – and their friendship – from where they were during the "in-between years" to where they are at the start of this story.

 

_ _

 

 

_I don't know why you say goodbye, I say hello_

_–The Beatles, Hello Goodbye_

 

PROLOGUE:

 

When Mad-Eye Moody introduced around the newest recruit to the Order of the Phoenix, Remus couldn’t help but allow himself a tiny moment of wondering, _Really?_

Not that there was anything wrong with joining the Order when you were practically fresh out of school – he and James and Sirius and Peter had done the same when they were even younger than the woman now sitting in the kitchen at 12 Grimmauld Place, swinging her heels against the legs of her chair and looking unfazed by the veteran resistance fighters around her.

But joining the Order practically fresh out of school _and_ having hot pink hair _and_ combining all that with the unmistakeable, penetrating gaze of an Auror – it was a bit much to take in.

“Wotcher,” the young woman said, and grinned at them all.

Yes, there was undeniably something intriguing about Nymphadora Tonks.

– – – – –

When Mad-Eye introduced Tonks to Remus Lupin, asking him to stay a bit longer after the meeting to fill her in on some background about the Order’s activities the last time around, her first thought was that Remus reminded her of her grandfather, the Muggle one on her dad's side.

Not because of their age difference – she suspected the earnest wizard in the carefully patched robes was younger than his premature grey seemed to suggest – but because of the calm he exuded, the impression that you would be safe in his hands, and that perhaps if you were good, he might tell you a bedtime story.

But then he smiled, and Tonks thought, _Oh._ There was clearly something more beneath that mild exterior, and she experienced a startling moment of feeling she’d rather like to know what it was.

She shook her head at herself, grinned at him, and they got down to business.

– – – – –

 

CHAPTER 1:

 

Slouching in the shadowed doorway to the basement kitchen at 12 Grimmauld Place after another Order meeting, glass in hand, Sirius watched his old friend chat with his young cousin. _Or chat UP my cousin_ , he thought, though of course discussions of Dark Lords were not exactly standard chat-up fare.

Tonks had been a member of the Order of the Phoenix for only a few weeks now, but it was already clear she was a very good addition, whip-smart and possessing far more energy than several of the older, stodgier members combined. Little Dora had grown up well, in these many years Sirius had been gone.

And if Remus got enjoyment out of a late night conversation with her in the kitchen after this latest Order meeting – as he evidently did, if that small smile of his was any indication – then all the better.

If there was one person in the world who deserved more joy than he had been allotted in life – well, except maybe Harry – but if there was a second person who deserved more joy, it was Remus.

It certainly wasn't Remus' fault that Sirius was back here, haunting the family home he'd hoped never to see again. Whereas it was entirely Sirius' fault that Remus had lost his closest friends and what little normalcy he'd once had in his difficult life. Anything Sirius could do to make up for that he would do gladly, even if it was only offering up the use of his family’s kitchen for an evening.

Anyway, it was amusing, Sirius decided, methodically draining his glass of Firewhisky and watching the room’s two occupants, who were too preoccupied with each other to notice him. It was amusing how the two of them were clearly fascinated by one another and just as clearly didn't know it.

_I give it till Christmas,_ Sirius thought, _because he's going to be stubbornly noble about it, but if she's got even half her mother's determination, he doesn't stand a chance._ He smirked down into his glass, then registered his own surprise at finding himself smiling. _Ah, old Moony won't know what hit him._

_But my Galleon's on Tonks._

With that thought, Sirius slipped off to check on Buckbeak and left the two lovebirds alone.

– – – – –

Remus stared down at his hands interlaced on the tabletop, lost in thought. Thinking about Harry, who was not James, yet so like James – impetuous, loyal, and determined to be involved in everything, consequences be damned. Standing there at the top of the stairs at Lily's sister's house tonight, he'd looked more like James than ever.

"Knut for your thoughts?" Tonks offered and Remus started.

"I'm so sorry," he said, looking up to where she stood in the doorway, gazing at him from beneath hair that was once again alarmingly pink. "I didn't hear you come back in."

"It's that skill at stealth we Aurors are so famed for," she replied, flashing him a grin. He recognised this as a joke, because just these few weeks of passing acquaintance with Nymphadora Tonks had already taught him that she was possibly the clumsiest person he'd ever met.

Remus started to get up from the table, feeling foolish to be sitting there gazing at nothing, when everyone else had gone.

But Tonks waved a hand and said, "Sit, sit. You want a Butterbeer?"

"Er –" replied Remus, half-sinking back into his chair.

"I mean, not that I'm helping myself to things in someone else's house… Okay, yes, I am. But Sirius is family. Here." She was already sliding into a seat across the table, knocking it awkwardly against the chair next to it, and pushing a chilled bottle towards him.

"Thanks?" he managed.

"You're thinking about Harry," she informed him, popping the cap off her bottle and taking a gulp.

He raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, come on, we've just filled him in on rather a lot of sensitive information, and now Sirius is slouching round the house looking dangerous and you're sitting here communing with the furniture – ergo, you're both worrying about Harry."

"They teach Legilimency in Auror boot camp, apparently?" he retorted, but smiled to let her know he wasn't annoyed. He fiddled with the Butterbeer bottle, opening it but not drinking, then said, "Frankly, I challenge anyone to know Harry and not worry."

"Point taken," Tonks replied. Then: "But what are you worrying about specifically, right now?"

Remus considered Tonks, her frank expression, her cheerful clumsiness and psychedelic hair. Nymphadora Tonks was not the person Remus would have planned to have a heart-to-heart with tonight, even if he'd planned to do such a thing at all. But then, when did anything ever work out as Remus had planned? And Tonks seemed truly interested to know what he was thinking. He took a sip of his Butterbeer.

"Sirius and I were friends of Harry's father," he told her at last.

"Ah."

"It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say there was a time when any one of us could look at the others and know exactly what they were thinking. Harry is…so much like James."

"But that's a good thing, isn't it?" Tonks asked, her voice gentler than he'd heard it yet.

"Well – of course. Of course it is." The fact that it was precisely James' good qualities – his trust, his loyalty – that had got him killed lay heavily on Remus' tongue, but he pushed the thought back. "Harry has somehow managed to take on the best of both his parents, without even having known them. It's quite startling, really. Sometimes I have to remind myself to whom I'm talking."

Tonks' quiet gaze encouraged him to continue.

"He's got James' drive," Remus said. "He won't rest until he's sought out evil and conquered it. But when you're a 15-year-old boy and evil is already out there hunting for you…" He shook his head. "I’m sorry. Depressing monologues should not be held over Butterbeer. I apologise, Nymphadora."

"Remus!" Tonks yelped. " _Not_ Nymphadora, please, never Nymphadora. Tonks will do fine."

"Tonks, then."

"Yes, thank you."

"Tonks – why don't you tell me something about yourself."

"'Change the subject,' you mean?"

"Er, I suppose so." Out of the corner of his eye, Remus thought he saw movement in the doorway to the stairs, but when he turned, no one was there.

"I'm not that interesting," she shrugged.

"Oh? I beg to differ. For instance – what made you want to be an Auror?"

"The glamour of it," she replied promptly, surprising him into a laugh. "No, seriously. It's not like that, of course, but as a kid I used to think it _would_ be. I mean, don't get me wrong, it's all worth it for the times when you've finally got all the pieces in place and you catch your Dark wizard and you know you're sending someone truly dangerous to Azkaban. Most of the time, though, it's a lot of busywork. This Order, though," she added, tapping a finger thoughtfully on the table. "Dumbledore's got the right idea. A small group of dedicated people, with as little bureaucracy as possible. It's good. I wish I could have been in the Order the first time round. But, you know, I was, like, six."

From there, Remus was surprised to find the two of them falling into easy conversation. Whereas before now they'd had at most a handful of brief conversations, always related to Order business, now they were chatting about everything, his anecdotes from back in the day and her stories of Auror training under Moody, with her making him laugh with her dead-on impression of the gruff old Auror's unrelenting paranoia.

Some time later – they were each on their second Butterbeer – he glanced up to find himself pinned by her gaze again, that penetrating Auror look.

"Tell me about Harry's dad. About James," she said.

"James?"

"Yeah. He was clearly important to you, and I don't know anything about Harry's family. Thought maybe you could reminisce a bit."

The fire was guttering down low in the fireplace and the kitchen was surprisingly hospitable, despite its bleak stone. Tonks' gaze on him was relaxed and open, and Remus hadn't felt so at peace with his ghosts in a long time. Perhaps it wouldn't do any harm to talk about James a little. "What would you like to know?" he asked finally.

Tonks considered. "How'd you meet?"

Remus couldn't help a chuckle at that. "First day of Hogwarts. He and Sirius had already managed to because fast friends, of course, just in the time on the Hogwarts Express. And then I was standing there at the Sorting, all alone and waiting for my name to be called, literally shaking, and this skinny, messy-haired kid near me – who had a truly impossible degree of self-confidence for an 11-year-old – muttered, 'Buck up, mate, worst that can happen is they'll put you in Slytherin and you'll have to drop out from shame.' And even though that was precisely my fear – that I would end up in Slytherin, since I was a Dark creature, after all – somehow that made me laugh and take myself a little less seriously. Which, essentially, is what James and Sirius spent the next seven years doing, forcing me to take myself less seriously."

"Did you know my mum at school too?" Tonks wanted to know and Remus' head jerked up in poorly disguised shock. Right, of course, he was nearly as old as this woman's mother.

"Er, no," he said quickly, "No, she'd just finished the year before. Which I know because Sirius certainly complained enough, that he _would_ get stuck with 'Prissy Cissy' as the only one of his cousins still at Hogwarts."

Tonks laughed. "Yeah, I can picture that. Was he as incorrigible as I imagine?"

"Worse." Remus smiled.

"And Harry's dad? Also incorrigible?"

"Afraid so."

"What about you?"

"Er, sensible when I should have been more fun, and irresponsible when I should have been setting a good example, I'd say. Always getting roped into to things while simultaneously maintaining a guilty conscience about them."

Tonks sighed happily at him. "I'm picturing it like some epic story. The tale of the three gallant, adventuring friends!"

"More or less." Remus thought he probably shouldn't tread this ground tonight, yet there was something about Tonks that had him wanting to tell her the full truth. "In real life, though, it started out as four friends."

She looked at him quizzically. "Who was the fourth?"

"We had another friend, called Peter."

"And he's been written out of the collective history, has he?"

"You could put it that way, I suppose. He was the one who betrayed James and Lily to Voldemort."

Tonks' eyes went wide. "Oh, Merlin," she whispered. "Oh. I'm so sorry."

"Well, yes, it was all a long time ago," Remus said, disconcerted by her sympathy.

"Gods, and that's what Sirius was in Azkaban for, wasn't it? People thought he was the one who betrayed them? So you lost one friend, and thought another was a traitor, all at once?" For a moment she just stared at him, the knuckes of one hand pressed to her lips. Then she said, voice hushed, "I can't imagine how you survived that."

In his darker moments, Remus sometimes wondered the same thing.

"Honestly, there was a fair amount of drinking too much and running away from everything in those first years," he said. "I spent some time abroad, being aimless and not much use."

She fixed him with that inescapable gaze and said, "You must be so strong."

And really, what did one say to that?

It was some time later, after their conversation had lurched its way back into more neutral waters, that Tonks looked up and wondered, "What time is it, anyway?"

She cast around the room in vain for a clock. It was Remus who located one, glowering darkly down with an almost human face from a high corner, half-hidden behind the pots and pans. "Half twelve," he said.

"Merlin's pants!" Tonks exclaimed, then glanced sideways at Remus, looking abashed. "Er – sorry, language."

"Don't worry, I'm no longer a teacher." He smiled ruefully. "And even that didn't last all that long in the first place."

"I've got to go," she said, looking sorry about it. "Early shift tomorrow. Thanks, it was nice talking, I'll just tidy up –"

"Don't worry about it –"

"Oops!" she cried, having somehow managed to knock all four empty bottles off the table, but catching them with a Hover Charm just before they hit the floor. "Sorry."

"No, no, it's all right." Remus flicked his wand and sent the bottles sailing neatly back into the pantry. "Shall I see you to the door?"

– – – – –

Tonks followed Remus upstairs and watched as he deftly undid the various enchantments that guarded the entrance to the Order's Headquarters. She felt she ought to say something supportive about the personal things he'd shared with her, or maybe just apologise about having made him share them at all. But she couldn't seem to find the right words.

"So, see you soon, I'm sure," she said instead, as Remus slid open the last bolt.

"Yes, I'm sure," he agreed, holding the door open as she walked down the steps and raised her wand, ready to Disapparate. Just as she began to turn, one side of his mouth quirked up slightly. "Good night, Nymphadora."

Her name sounded strangely tolerable when he said it, Tonks reflected, and she found herself hiding a smile.

Still, she managed to send him a token glare just as she Disapparated. She wasn’t about to let him make a habit of that!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated to add: Though it's not technically part of this timeline, if you want to think of all these stories as existing within the same world, then "[The Pied Piper of Privet Drive, or, How the Dursleys Came to Be Short-Listed for the All-England Best Kept Suburban Lawn Competition](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3073655)," a fun, early-OotP story co-written by stereolightning and me, would fall between the prologue and the main part of this chapter!


	2. Cleaning Days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is extremely short...but I can definitely promise you that's the last time that will happen in this story!
> 
> This chapter is also early, because I'm going away over the weekend, but in the future generally I'll try to stick to a roughly-on-Fridays weekly schedule.

 

_If you said let's go_  
 _If you said I'm sick of this place_  
 _I would listen to you_  
 _I wouldn't hesitate_  
  
 _–Calexico/Françoiz Breut, Si Tu Disais_

 

"Tonks, dear, do you know if Remus is planning to be back here any time soon?" Molly Weasley asked, passing by with a pile of fresh laundry nearly overflowing from her arms.  
  
Slightly sweaty and with damp hair reverted to brown, Tonks was sitting with Harry, Ron and Hermione on the stairs by one of the upstairs landings, the four of them having finally managed to banish a particularly recalcitrant ghoul from one of the house's toilets.  
  
"What? No, Molly, sorry, I wouldn't know," Tonks answered, too quickly, then mentally kicked herself as Molly paused in the relentless march of her household tasks and considered Tonks for a moment.  
  
Honestly, what _was_ it about Remus? He was funny and charming and intelligent as all get out, sure, but why should that matter? Tonks wasn’t looking for a boyfriend or, Merlin forbid, someone serious to settle down with, like her mum seemed to think she should be doing. Between work and the Order, she had far too much going on in her life to want even to think about something like that.  
  
And anyway, it didn’t matter, and why did she now apparently _blush_ when she heard his name?  
  
Tonks looked up to find Molly still regarding her thoughtfully, and blushed harder. Oh, for crying out loud.  
  
"Oh, well," Molly replied. "I thought we could ask him to do something about that grandfather clock in the hallway upstairs, the one that keeps shooting out bolts. He was such a wonder with the writing desk that snapped its drawers at anyone who passed by. That man has a knack for charmed furniture."  
  
And with that, Molly and her pile of laundry disappeared down the stairs, revealing her daughter coming up behind her.  
  
"I heard Sirius say he'd be gone a couple more days," Ginny told the others, flopping down onto the top step next to Hermione. "I _wish_ they'd tell us what he was doing!" she added.  
  
"I wish anyone'd tell us anything," Ron grumbled.  
  
A mad gleam came into Ginny’s eye, and Tonks was reminded anew just how much the youngest Weasley sometimes resembled her elder twin brothers.  
  
"Tonks," Ginny said slowly, "but _you_ can tell us, can't you?"  
  
"There you're assuming I know anything about any secret missions that may or may not be taking place," Tonks replied, screwing up her face briefly to return her hair to short and pink. "Which I'm rather sorry to say I don't."  
  
"No, I mean in general," Ginny clarified. "You can tell us more about things than Mum and Sirius and Professor Lupin would. You know just as much as them."  
  
"Yeah!" Ron enthused, suddenly looking at Tonks as if he'd never seen her properly before. "Tonks, you're in the Order, but you're, you know. Pretty cool," he finished lamely.  
  
Tonks cast a glance towards Harry, but Harry was staring down at his trainers, not listening. He'd seemed to enjoy himself when they were all laughing and ducking the ghoul's volleys of water, but now he'd gone quiet again.  
  
"Tonks?" Hermione asked tentatively.  
  
She shook her head. "Really, kids, no. It's not down to me to decide who the Order tells what. But I understand your frustration!" she added, as Ginny glared. "Look, I know you want to know more, but try to think about it this way – nobody, barring maybe Dumbledore, actually knows all of what's going on. Just because I'm a member of the Order doesn't mean anyone is going to tell me where Remus is right now or what precisely Snape gets up to all the time."  
  
"Snape," Harry muttered, the first thing he'd said in a while. "I'd really like to know…" But he trailed off and didn't finish the sentence.  
  
"Me too," Hermione agreed, even though Harry hadn’t completed that thought. "And it doesn't help any, does it, that he turns up here goading Sirius about how he's out there doing more than him."  
  
"Stupid git," Ron muttered, then glanced at Tonks guiltily to see if she would scold him for insulting another Order member.  
  
"That's _Professor_ Stupid Git to you," she said sternly, earning her a laugh from all of them, even grudgingly from Harry.  
  
Later, when she stayed for dinner, Tonks found herself watching them, Harry and his two best friends and the way they interacted, seeming almost to complete one another's thoughts.  
  
It reminded her of another set of three close friends she'd heard about recently and she winced again at the thoughtlessly prying things she'd asked Remus that night in the kitchen. She was rather glad, or so she told herself, that the man in question seemed to have disappeared for the time being – it saved her from putting her foot in her mouth any more than strictly necessary.  
  
After dinner, Tonks managed to corner Harry in the entrance hallway just before she left.  
  
"Harry," she said, speaking quietly to avoid rousing the vile portrait of Sirius' mum. "Don't worry too much about the Ministry thing. They really don't have a case against you. They're just trying to make you look bad, but believe me, Dumbledore won't let it happen."  
  
If anything, Harry only looked glummer and Tonks’ heart went out to him. All fifteen-year-olds felt put upon and misunderstood by the world. In Harry's case, it was actually true.  
  
"Chin up," she whispered. "Because, hey, at least it can't get any worse than it already is, right?"  
  
Harry looked startled, then nodded and even gave her a small smile. "Yeah. That’s true. Thanks, Tonks."  
  
"See ya, Harry. Ask Molly or Sirius to come seal the enchantments on the door again after I go out, okay?"  
  
She stepped out into the evening light, gratefully breathing in the fresh air. _Poor Sirius, stuck in there all the time,_ she thought. _And poor Harry, not knowing what the world's got in store for him even past next week._


	3. Werewolves and Woes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just want to let you know ahead of time that I'm going to be changing the title of this story soon, as soon as I decide definitively on something I like better. So please don't be too baffled if it shows up next week or so with the same descriptions but a different title!

 

_If I have been unkind_   
_I hope that you can just let it go by_   
_If I have been untrue_   
_I hope you know it was never to you_   
  
_–Leonard Cohen, Bird on the Wire_

 

 

_Maybe werewolves just really aren't very nice people,_ Remus thought, then felt slightly sickened with himself. He leaned his forehead against the cool windowpane of the rattling train. The full moon was two days past already, but he still had a pounding headache.

He reminded himself that, as he very well knew, werewolves were not innately bad. All too often it was wizards' prejudice – something with which he was also, unfortunately, deeply familiar – that drove werewolves to extremes and often ended up turning them into, well, rather nasty people. _At least I have a clear answer for Dumbledore this time,_ he thought. _Bulgaria's a wash, no point in going back there._

Remus groaned softly and closed his eyes, fairly counting the seconds until he would be close enough to England to Disapparate. Soon he would be back at Grimmauld Place, where Sirius, whatever other faults he might have, was good about not asking too many questions about how the mission had gone. And where Remus could live more or less normally until the next full moon.

– – – – –

"Dumbledore stopped by two nights ago," Sirius muttered, as he shuffled round the kitchen in the too-early morning, putting the kettle on.

"Oh?" Remus asked, flicking aside the newspaper he wasn't managing to concentrate on, the remnants of yesterday's headache still fading behind his eyes. "Anything new?"

"For me, you, Harry, or the world?" Sirius asked dourly, poking the kettle with his wand harder than necessary to start it heating.

"Any of the above."

"For me, same delightful assignment of staying here and doing nothing. For you, you get to cavort with werewolves again next month, lucky boy. And Dumbledore seems to think he can work his usual magic today and get them to let Harry off those ridiculous trumped-up charges."

Sirius flung himself gracelessly into the nearest chair, and Remus honestly couldn't tell which Sirius was angrier about, that the Wizengamot might unjustly charge Harry with breaching the International Statute of Secrecy, or that the court might drop the charges and let Harry disappear from their lives again when the Hogwarts school year started in a few scant weeks. Probably both.

"Sirius –" he began, about to admonish him at least to put on a brave face once Harry came down to breakfast, but one look at his friend's face and he didn't have the heart. It turned out to be unnecessary anyway, since the near-telepathy of their boyhood seemed to be up and running again.

"I'm not going to do anything to make things harder on Harry, Remus," Sirius said. "Give me a little credit."

"Good morning, you two," Molly called out with attempted cheer, as she came into the kitchen with Arthur just behind her. "It's nice that you're both here for Harry before the hearing, he can use the support, I mean, not that there's anything to be worried about –" she broke off and began fussing about distractedly, trying to start the kettle heating before she realised it was already near boiling.

Arthur took a seat at the table and picked up the Daily Prophet Remus had discarded, but only made it halfway through the front page, his expression darkening all the while, before muttering, "Lies," and similarly tossing the paper aside.

"Morning, Molly and Arthur," Tonks yawned from the doorway. "Wotcher, Remus, Sirius. Thought I'd stop by, I just got off guard du-u-u-uty."

She succumbed to another giant yawn, and stumbled her way into a chair as well. She was smartly dressed in her Auror robes, but her hair was tousled and looked as though it might have got stuck somewhere halfway through one of her colourful transformations. The contrast with her official robes only made her more charming.

Remus shook himself, asking himself what he was doing gazing at Tonks at all, and got up to pour them all the day's first cup of tea. Molly joined the rest of them at the table, looking anxious.

"Arthur, I don't know how you manage it so well," Tonks sighed, resting her chin on her hand. "I'm having a lot of trouble keeping up an innocent front. Scrimgeour's been nosing round, asking me and Kingsley questions. Kind of like he knows we're doing something not officially sanctioned, but can't figure out quite what it is."

"What you do is dodge and feint," Arthur advised. "Distract him with something else more harmless now and then, so he thinks he's got something on you."

Remus stopped attending to their conversation as he followed Sirius' gaze to the kitchen doorway, where Harry stood, looking very young.

"Breakfast," Molly announced, jumping up to put actions to her words. Tonks pulled out a chair for Harry, knocking another over in the process and righting it again, as Molly subjected Harry to a verbal barrage of breakfast options.

Remus looked at Harry and decided the boy probably didn't feel like being forced to join in the conversation right now. "What were you saying about Scrimgeour?" he asked Tonks instead.

Once Harry had eaten and Molly had fussed almost to her satisfaction over his clothing and that impossible hair he'd inherited from James, they all gave him what little encouragement they could, and Harry trailed out of the room after Arthur, on his way to the Ministry.

Those left in the basement kitchen gazed at each other bleakly.

"I've got to get to work too," Tonks said, standing up. "I'll stop by again as soon as I can, to hear how things are. But it'll be fine, you'll see." She gave Sirius' shoulder a gentle nudge, which he ignored, then came and rested a hand on Remus' arm. Without thinking, he reached up to rest a hand on hers in thanks.

Molly muttered something about waking the other children and rose as well, then she and Tonks disappeared up the stairs.

Remus looked at Sirius, who was resting his chin on his hands, gazing into space.

"I've got to go too," Remus told him. "I've got a meeting with Moody. If Harry gets back before I do, will you let me know how it turned out?"

Sirius nodded, never breaking eye contact with the opposite wall.

Remus sighed, started a couple different times to say something, but didn't manage to get any of it out. In the end, he clapped a hand on Sirius' shoulder and headed upstairs.

– – – – –

Over the next few days, Remus watched Sirius fall into an impenetrable sulk. There had been a time, now very long past, when he and James and Peter had known all the remedies for shaking Sirius out of his moods: a joke (Peter knew surprisingly dirty ones), some idea for a new midnight adventure (generally James' department) or just teasing him with merciless wit until Sirius growled in frustration, attempted to hex the offending party, then finally gave in to laughter instead – Remus himself had been a specialist in this last method. These days, though, neither of them possessed much fodder for light-hearted teasing.

Harry, on the other hand, finally looked happier, which was a relief. As someone who remembered well what it was to find a home away from home at Hogwarts, Remus didn't begrudge Harry his excitement over going back there. But Sirius, who also should have known better – Sirius sulked.

With only a few days left until Harry and the others would return to Hogwarts, Remus determined the sulk had gone on long enough and went looking for Sirius, on one of the long afternoons when the others were scattered through the house, wrestling with its demons and dirt.

He found the man in question, unsurprisingly, holed up in his parents' former bedroom, which Sirius had exulted in converting into a makeshift stable for a stolen Hippogriff. Remus closed the door carefully behind himself, crossed his arms and leaned back against it, with no particular plan. He waited.

It was Sirius who spoke first, not looking up from where he sat trimming Buckbeak's claws, his voice low and defeated. "I know I'm being an idiot, Remus. You don't have to tell me."

"I wasn't going to say that, Sirius. Give me a little credit as well."

Remus hesitated, then crossed the room, bowing first to the Hippogriff and waiting for an answering bow, before settling himself carefully on the floor near Sirius, by the creature's side.

The conversation, such as it had been, trailed off again. Remus watched Sirius groom Buckbeak, his movements careful and methodical – not adjectives Remus would have thought he would ever associate with his most impetuous friend.

"Autumns must have been the worst," Sirius said into the silence.

"Sorry?"

"It didn't matter to me, it was always the same in Azkaban. I didn't even know how many years had passed. But I imagine, for you, autumn always stirred up memories."

"I suppose so," Remus admitted, unwilling.

"I've noticed it these last two years, since I've been out. I smell fallen leaves and I can almost see myself walking up to James and Lily's that last night."

"Sirius, please."

Sirius shifted, giving Buckbeak a reassuring pat before sliding back so he could lean against the frame of the bed. "I just mean, it must have been even harder for you. Just trying to say I recognise that."

"It's good to have Harry back," Remus agreed, as if this were what Sirius had said. "But you know it's not like we can keep him."

"Thank you, Professor Obvious. I know that."

"I do mean it, though. It's good to have him here. I never thought there would be a time when I would get to see Harry again, every day, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. We're lucky, I suppose."

Sirius let out that laugh like a bark, one thing about him the years in Azkaban hadn't managed to take away. "Yes, indeed, Remus, when I think of good luck, I swear you and I come to mind as the very first example."

Remus smiled ruefully. "I've learned to be satisfied with fairly little, I think."

"I'm never satisfied with little," Sirius growled.

"I know, mate, believe me, I know."

"I don't know how you do it. You've always been a better man than I."  
  
"No, it’s not that. Surviving simply gets easier with practice."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Typical Remus wisdom." He stared pensively at Buckbeak, who was now grooming his own feathers, then asked, "Does it startle you over and over, to look at him and see James looking back at you?"

"Yes."

"And Lily in his eyes, when he's being kind and thoughtful?"

"Yes."

"I suppose I'm not completely mad, then."

"You're far from mad, Sirius."

Sirius gave a short, wry sigh. “And, tell me, should I be glad about that or sorry?”

When it really came down to it, Remus found he had no answer.

– – – – –

Remus looked from dead Harry sprawled on the drawing room floor, to shocked Harry frozen just inside the doorway, to Molly sobbing and trying to hold her wand steady.

Feeling a surge of anger that had nothing to do with this particular Boggart and everything to do with the state of the world as a whole, Remus shifted Harry gently out of the way, took aim with his wand and calmly forced the Boggart to transform into the orb that was his own greatest fear, then vanished it into a harmless puff of smoke.

"Molly," he said, at a loss, and went to her where she was cowering against the wall, Sirius and Moody and Harry still watching from the doorway. Then he did something that surprised even himself, putting his arms around Molly Weasley and holding her as she cried into his shoulder.

"It was just a Boggart," he soothed, though he knew as well as she did that Boggarts were surely the least of their collective worries.

"I see them d – d – dead all the time," Molly gasped and Remus stroked her hair, wishing there were anything he could say. It was strange to him and somehow sweet, that Molly Weasley would accept his comfort this way. He knew she’d been wary of him, as a werewolf, when they were first introduced, though she’d done her best to hide it.

Now, if only there were anything he could say or do that would actually help.

"We're much better off than we were last time," he told her, after her sobs and her litany of fears had run their course, and she'd dried her eyes on his handkerchief. It was the only thing he could promise honestly – not that no one would get hurt, only that the odds were somewhat more in their favour this time round.

Molly dredged up a smile for Harry's sake, and Remus sent her off to bed with a firm suggestion that she get some rest and under no account attempt to clean up from the celebration they’d had that evening. The rest of them would take care of that. He murmured a few discreet words to Arthur and sent him in Molly's direction too, while the rest of them gathered up plates and Butterbeer bottles, and Bill took over the task of shepherding his younger siblings to bed.

Remus returned to the kitchen to find Sirius, Tonks, Moody and Kingsley still talking quietly. Bill rejoined them shortly afterwards.

"I'm impressed, mate," came Sirius' voice, low and amused from his favourite lurking spot in the shadow of the kitchen doorway, when Bill returned. They had all heard Ginny's indignant shrieks at her oldest brother, which had nonetheless somehow ended with her and all the others tucked safely into bed. "Practising up to have a whole batch of sprogs yourself?"

"I think I've already had enough practice to last a lifetime," Bill groaned, dropping into a chair. He gratefully accepted the strong black tea Tonks proffered in an incongruously delicate teacup. "You've got to hand it to my mum. Despite all the fussing and shouting and what have you, she's certainly done it well, on the whole."

Remus wasn't sure, but he thought he saw Bill flick the briefest of significant glances in Sirius' direction, and Sirius took the hint. "I'm grateful for everything she's done for Harry when I couldn't," he muttered. Remus figured it was probably the closest anyone was going to get to an apology over the repeated how-best-to-raise-Harry disagreements, but perhaps it was enough.

"I can't say I agree with Dumbledore," Moody growled suddenly into his cup, where he was drinking, as usual, something unidentifiable of his own that he'd brought along to dinner. It was a surprising sentiment, coming from Moody, and they all turned to him. "How's the boy supposed to prepare himself for whatever tricks You-Know-Who's got up his sleeve, if Dumbledore doesn't even want him to know there might be tricks at all?"

"Harry is very brave, but he's only 15," Kingsley replied in his deep, measured voice. "And he's impetuous, as we know. I can see why Dumbledore thinks it's better that he not know more than he needs to."

"It might be a bit much," Bill agreed, "to know about the –" out of habit, he broke off to glance around for underage eavesdroppers, "– about the Prophecy. He's been through a lot these last couple months, seeing You-Know-Who come back, watching a classmate get killed, being dragged through the mud by the Ministry. I imagine Dumbledore thinks he doesn't need any more to worry about right now."

"Harry can handle it," Sirius disagreed.

"I imagine he can," said Kingsley, "But should he have to, if it isn't absolutely necessary?"

"I don't know, though," Tonks put in. "The kids get frustrated, not being allowed to know what's going on. You never know what they might get it in their heads to do if they feel like they're being kept in the dark. And isn't it Harry's fate, after all? I mean, the Prophecy is about him, so why shouldn't he know?"

"Constant vigilance," agreed Moody's rough voice. "If he knows there's a Prophecy and that You-Know-Who might use him to get it, Harry'll be better prepared when he strikes."

Remus sighed. "Dumbledore will have his reasons. Just as he's keeping his distance from Harry to protect him, on the hunch Voldemort might try to use Harry to get to him. And we've rarely gone wrong by following Dumbledore's hunches."

"If it were up to me, I'd tell Harry everything," Sirius put in. "He's got a right to know." Then, heading Remus off before he could protest: "But I'm not going to go against Dumbledore, you know that. None of us is."

"I'm not sure what's best either," Remus said, addressing the group at large, but meaning those words of admission for Sirius. "We'll just have to keep an even closer eye on Harry. He's well protected at Hogwarts, but still, we should keep a lookout for anything suspicious in Hogsmeade or around the castle. And someone should always be there when Harry has his Hogsmeade weekends, though I imagine Dumbledore has thought of that already. We'll just have to keep our eyes open for him, all of us."

"Listen to Lupin," said Sirius from the shadows. "He's almost always right."

Remus turned in surprise, but there was no sarcasm on Sirius' face.

Tonks shrugged. "It's a fairly moot point anyway. It's not like we're going to start telling him things Dumbledore doesn't want him to know."

"Regularly checking in on Hogsmeade is a good idea," Moody said. "Keeping an ear to the ground. I'll go up there this week, once they're back, and after that we can rotate, maybe once a week or so. I'll ask Dumbledore what he thinks."

Remus was still thinking about Sirius' words, his quiet expression of faith, probably more faith than Remus had in himself. Remus was not used to this, having friends around to stand up for him and believe in him. It made for a strange sensation.

"Well," said Moody. They all looked round at each other and realised they'd reached as much of an agreement as they could for this particular evening. Nearly of one mind, they rose to go.

As Sirius showed Moody, Kingsley and Bill up to the ground floor, Remus found himself again the last one in the kitchen with Tonks, who stifled a yawn as she gathered up her things.

"We have to be up pretty early tomorrow to get them to King's Cross," Remus said. "Are you sure you don't want to just sleep here with us?" Then his brain caught up with his mouth and he felt his cheeks heat. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean –"

There was just a breath's length of an embarrassing pause, then the corners of Tonks' eyes crinkled. "I know you didn't mean." She stretched up and gave Remus a peck on the cheek, then followed after the others. "Good night, Remus. See you in the a.m."

Remus considered for a moment, then decided the most appropriate reaction was simply to laugh at himself. He hadn't had the opportunity to make a fool of himself in front of a woman in a long time, and certainly not a woman as impressive and delightful and completely beyond what he should even be thinking about as Nymphadora Tonks. It was very nearly an enjoyable sensation.

Remus shook his head at himself, and gathered up the rest of the teacups.


	4. The Captive and the Cousin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, posting a bit early again, because I'm going to be traveling tomorrow. Don't know that I'll ever quite get into the always-on-Fridays posting rhythm I was hoping for, but it will always be _around_ Friday!
> 
> And, yes, I've changed the title of the story – to "Be the Light in My Lantern" from the old working title "The Beginning of Something." The new title is from a song by Josh Ritter, "Lantern." Josh is one of my all-time favorite songwriters, and this is a song of his that I also sometimes play/perform; it's an anthem of hope and love even in dark times.

 

_It took a long time to_  
 _Become the thing I am to you_  
  
– _The Indigo Girls, Become You_  
  
  
  
"He's not here," was the first thing Sirius said when he answered the door.

"That's not why I'm here, Sirius," Tonks replied with a roll of her eyes. Then, gathering up whatever shreds of dignity she might have left, she added, "Plus, I have no idea what or who you're talking about. And are you going to let me in or what?"

"Well then, by all means. Be my guest." Sirius stood back to allow her into the house, then sealed the door again behind her.

"Moody said you agreed to look over these documents," she told him, shrugging out of a light travelling cloak. Even in mid-September, there was a bit of a chill in the air. "Data on known Death Eaters, from what I understood. He was hoping you might be able to add some details on the ones who're in Azkaban."

Sirius' face twisted into a moue of distaste, but he took the scrolls from her without comment. "Stay for a cup of tea?" he asked, too casual, and Tonks was acutely aware how lonely it must be in the old house, with the kids gone, Molly and Arthur back at their own home, Remus travelling for the Order. She stayed for tea.

Over the next couple weeks, Tonks started making a point of dropping in on Sirius, always inventing some Order-related pretext so that he could never to accuse her of pity.

As stopping by after work or in a spare moment grew into a habit, she came to feel a certain affection for Sirius' strange old family home, though it felt doubly empty now without the voices of so many young people or the calm, steady presence of Remus, still on extended business for the Order. Grimmauld Place with only Sirius was a darker, more brooding place, the silence of the old rooms more oppressive.

But it was fun, aside from the days when Sirius was in the bleakest of his changeable moods, to get to know this cousin she barely knew a thing about. Tonks' mother didn't like to talk about the darker parts of her family tree and until recently, that assessment had included Sirius.

"My mum would like to see you," she told him one day. She didn't strictly know if this was true. She hadn't had a chance to bring up the idea with her mother, working all the time for both the Order and the Ministry as she did now, but from the wistful way Andromeda referred to Sirius now that she knew he hadn't been a traitor, Tonks thought it a very good bet that she would like to visit, very much, if only there were a way to organise it. And surely it would do Sirius some good to see one of the only members of his family he'd ever liked.

Sirius glanced up at her, eyes wary. "I can't imagine how that would work. Dumbledore is Secret-Keeper for the house. And I'm not allowed to leave it."

In the end, it took a special trip up to Hogwarts on Tonks' part to obtain the written address of Order Headquarters in Dumbledore's hand, with strict instructions to destroy the paper immediately after use. She also had to assure various people that her parents were supporters of the Order, and arrange the whole thing to a very precise and unnecessary level of detail, but in the end she found herself standing on the top step of 12 Grimmauld Place with her mother at her side, rapping lightly in an agreed-upon code that had mercifully taken the place of the overly loud doorbell. A rather genius spell of Moody's now allowed even the quietest of taps at the door to be heard everywhere in the house except in the vicinity of the tyrannical portrait of Sirius' mum.

Then Sirius was there, hurrying them in and closing the door, and a moment later they were all standing in the dimly lit entrance hallway, her mother and her cousin grinning goofy grins at each other.

"Sirius," Andromeda said. "Look at you." She swept him into a hug, mussing up his shaggy hair.

Sirius yelped, "Ow, Dromeda, get off!" And then the two of them began laughing hysterically, gasping for breath, while Tonks simply stood and stared. In all her life, she had never seen her poised and proper mother act so absolutely silly.

"Have to get – downstairs –" Sirius managed. "Away from – stupid portrait –"

He led them down to the kitchen, where both he and Andromeda continued to stare at each other and laugh uncontrollably, clutching their sides and leaning against the table for support. Tonks shook her head and went to make tea.

"Your _hair_ , Sirius," Andromeda gasped.

"It was always long," Sirius retorted.

"You absolute idiot," she said. "You really had me believing – for twelve years –"

"Come on, Andromeda, really? Me? How could you believe that?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Sirius, I should have known, of course, that the whole convicted murderer thing was just you getting yourself into dumb scrapes as usual."

"Ah, Andromeda, I've missed your particularly sympathetic brand of moral support all these years, I really have."

Tonks looked at the two of them leaning there together, co-conspirators in shared history, and was struck by their physical resemblance. It was in their colouring and features, of course, but also some regal aspect to their bearing it seemed no amount of time, prison or disinheritance could erase. She had never so fully appreciated that her mother was, in fact, a Black. Nor how much she must have left behind when she'd chosen Tonks' father over her own family.

Leaving them to their giddy reunion for the moment, Tonks turned to poke through the tea cupboard.

Sirius, she had found, kept an extraordinary array of teas. (Seriously, where did he even get them?) Remus seemed to favour a nice, traditional Darjeeling – and that was always on hand too – but Sirius himself stocked things like lapsang souchong and an unusually spicy masala chai that Tonks suspected of sharing an ingredient or two with Pepperup Potion and which had given her quite the surprise the first time she'd tried it. She honestly hadn't worked out yet whether those teas were actually favourites of Sirius', or if he just liked confusing people.

Now, she brewed her mother and Sirius the spicy chai, just to see if they even noticed, despite being wrapped up in the novelty of their reunion.

They didn't notice.

Tonks grinned to herself, and sipped her own tea – carefully. The steam rising from the cup did look distressingly like smoke.

"The house is as charming as ever, I see," Andromeda was saying. "Walburga always did go for the stark and imposing style of decoration."

"Just be glad you didn't see the place before we spent weeks throwing out everything that wasn't affixed with permanent charms," Sirius told her.

"I can only imagine."

"So, fill me in," Sirius said, finally waking to his surroundings and offering them both a seat. "I fear I may have missed some of the events in your life, just here and there."

Tonks was starting to feel her eyes glaze over, as her mother recounted what seemed to be everything that had ever happened in Tonks' entire lifespan, when they heard footsteps on the ground floor above.

"Sirius?" came Remus' voice.

Tonks coughed to disguise an involuntary grin. Something about the idea of her mother and Remus meeting suddenly struck her as hilarious.

There were footsteps on the stairs, then Remus appeared in the doorway, blinking as he looked round at each of them. He cast Tonks a brief, unreadable glance, as his hands rose automatically to smooth his hair.

"Andromeda," he said.

"Remus," Tonks' mother replied warmly, rising and going to the doorway to enfold him in a hug.

"Wait," Tonks said. "You _know_ each other?"

"Of course," her mother answered, tugging Remus into the room and steering him into a seat at the table. "I can't count the number of times Sirius showed up on my doorstep during school holidays – usually at completely inappropriate hours, I might add, and usually because he'd done something to throw his mother into a rage – and often as not, he brought one or another of his friends along. Although he turned up less often once he finally left this place for good and went to stay with James' family."

"You lived with James' parents?" Tonks asked Sirius, struggling to catch up. "As in, Harry's grandparents?"

"Indeed, and I'm sure they wished, once they took me in, that they'd left me at your mother's mercy after all," Sirius chuckled. "James and I in combination were a holy terror."

"Well, thanks everybody for keeping me in the dark about everything," Tonks grumbled. Then she narrowed her eyes at Remus. "Wait a minute. Have _we_ met before?"

"Er –"

"Have we?"

"Only in passing, I would say."

"And were you ever going to get round to mentioning that we actually already knew each other – it's just that I was too young to remember? Because, you know, that happens all the time: make a new acquaintance, find out they've actually known you since you were in nappies…"

It was just too easy to discomfit Remus Lupin, Tonks thought, and way too much fun. But he looked so penitent over his accidental deception, she had to take pity on him.

"I'm _teasing_ , Remus," she said, laughing. Sirius joined in the laughter, then Andromeda, then finally Remus, and they moved on to talk about other things, though Remus continued to look rather charmingly flustered.

"I should be getting home," Andromeda said a while later, with regret. "But I'll visit again." She rose and went to stand by her cousin, resting a hand on his head and gazing down at him fondly. "Little Sirius."

Tonks stifled a snort.

"You may laugh, Nymphadora Tonks, but I remember when this one was just a wee lad, and _you_ weren't even thought of yet."

Sirius stood up too, looking mildly embarrassed. "You're not going to start telling childhood anecdotes, are you?"

"No," Tonks' mother promised. "I'll save that for another time." She gazed at Sirius. "Do take care of yourself this time, would you?"

He managed half a smile. "I try."

"I honestly thought I'd never see you again."

"Oh, it's harder than that to kill a Black, Dromeda."

"Let's hope you're right." She hugged him again and kissed both his cheeks. "Be a good boy, Sirius. Nice to see you again, Remus. And Nymphadora, do think about dropping by one of these days, before your father and I forget what our only child looks like."

"Sorry, Mum," Tonks muttered, cheeks flaming. She looked defiantly at Remus and Sirius, daring them to tease her for her ridiculous name and her mother's babying. Sirius didn't seem to notice, but she thought she saw Remus smirk at her, ever so slightly.

They all saw Andromeda out the front door in the waning evening light, but within seconds after the door had closed behind her, Sirius managed to disappear into the recesses of the house so discreetly, Tonks barely saw him go. She wasn't sure whether to be annoyed that Sirius was being really very obvious about trying to leave her alone together with Remus – or annoyed that it didn't matter because Remus never seemed to notice anyway.

Then Tonks looked up and found herself alone with Remus for the first time in weeks, and found she wasn't sure how to proceed.

"You must be tired," she said, wondering if she should leave and let him settle in here again.

He shrugged, reaching for the travelling case he'd leaned up against the wall in the entryway. "I do need to unpack, but you're welcome to stay and provide company." He looked uncertain. "If you like, I mean."

Tonks shrugged too, trying not to sound too eager. "Sure."

She followed him to the second storey bedroom he used when he was at Grimmauld Place, watching as he set the case in the middle of the floor and bent to undo the clasps. As soon as he was thus distracted, she pounced: "So, was I cute as a baby?"

Remus groaned. "I'm sorry, I probably should have said something –"

"Did you ever, I don't know, help change my nappies or something?"

"Nym – Tonks, please, it's embarrassing enough as it is." He was still bent over, fiddling with the clasps.

"Oh? Why is it embarrassing?"

"Well, I suppose it seems a bit odd, since we're… colleagues of a sort, now."

Tonks' stomach swooped with disappointment, and she realised she'd been hoping he'd say something more than just "colleagues." But, _It seems a bit odd to talk about having known you when you were a baby, seeing as I fancy you now_ would have been a bit much to hope for, wouldn't it?

Merlin's beard, when had she started hoping Remus fancied her?

Remus gave a rueful laugh. "Sorry. I promise I wasn't trying to hide any dark, mortifying secrets," he said. "Although, there was that one time you threw an entire bowl of spaghetti at Sirius…"

"Ooh, don't give me ideas!" Tonks said, and Remus laughed, a real laugh this time.

"Anyway," she said, "you haven't answered my question."

"Which was…?"

"Was I a cute baby?"

"Oh, seriously, you're not going to make me do this, are you?" There, he _was_ blushing, wasn't he? Just a tiny bit.

"Why are you dodging? Was I really that ugly?"

"No. You were…quite adorable, in fact. As a baby and a toddler."

She dropped into the room's one available armchair. "That's a bit creepy, Remus."

He glared at her half-heartedly. "All right, I take it back, you were a terribly ugly baby, Tonks. Satisfied?"

She grinned at him. "Yes, perfectly. Thank you. Now, can I help you unpack or something?"

He waved a hand. "Oh, no. Keeping me company is more than enough."

As she watched him remove his few belongings from the suitcase and set them carefully back in their places in the room, Tonks couldn't keep her most burning question from tumbling from her lips. "So am I allowed to ask where you were this time?"

He paused to look at her, seeming to consider how much he was allowed to reveal. "I imagine, actually, that you could guess."

"Something to do with werewolves, obviously," Tonks said, and she thought she saw him flinch slightly at the casual way she said it. "I got that much."

"Yes," he said. "Essentially, seeking out packs in as many places as possible, trying unobtrusively to get a sense of where they stand, which way they might lean, if it comes to that. Trying to find out if Death Eaters have made contact with them, and what they think about that. And very occasionally, in a group that seems receptive enough, trying to present our point of view and perhaps even convince a few of them if I can, though unfortunately that's very rare."

"Packs?" Tonks asked, stuck on that word. It called to mind roving wild animals, not people.

"Yes. Werewolves generally live and travel in packs."

"But they only transform once a month, don't they?"

He paused in the flawless refolding of a flawlessly folded shirt. "Most werewolves don't live very human lives, even when in human form. They're fairly savage, but they have a distinct hierarchical order. Much like dogs or…true wolves."

"Is that innate to being a werewolf, somehow? Or, I don't know, something they pick up from each other? Why do they all live together, anyway? I mean – er, you don't." She stopped, wondering if she was being horribly insensitive again. Most likely.

He sat on the bed, suitcase forgotten, giving her his full attention. "The thing you have to understand, N – Tonks – is that I'm not like almost any other werewolf. Not because I'm special or better, only because I was given opportunities most never had. My parents fought tooth and nail for me to be able to live in wizarding society. And Dumbledore took me on at Hogwarts, for which most people would have said he was mad. Most werewolves never go to school, they never integrate. At least not the ones who are bitten as children. They find their way to a pack and live werewolf lives."

"By choice?"

"Is it really a choice? They've been ostracised already, so yes, most turn their backs on human society willingly. In some cases, if they're still young, it's even their parents who send them away to a pack. I suppose they think they'll be happier there. Or at least less of a danger to everyone else."

"No. How could they do that?"

"What would you do? With a child that would now turn into a man-eating monster once a month for the rest of its life?"

"I wouldn't cast my child out, that's for sure!"

He gave her a rueful smile. "That's easier said than done."

"Your parents didn't."

"And I am deeply grateful, but I'm sure they sometimes wished they had."

"You can't mean that."

"Having a little werewolf under foot doesn't exactly make for a happy home life. It doesn't make the parents the most popular folks in town, either."

Tonks bit back hard against all the things she wanted to say, since any of them would probably come out sounding like an insult to Remus' parents, and that wasn't what she meant. Instead, she asked, "And it's always the full moon, isn't it? When you're away visiting these werewolf packs."

"It's the best time to catch them all together and at their most receptive. It's a bit of…a celebration, for them." He grimaced. "To come and be savage together. They enjoy it."

"You don't like going."

He seemed to burst out before he could stop himself. "Would you like having to make friends with people who think mauling other people is fun?"

For a moment, they stared at each other.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said –"

"I shouldn't have snapped –"

"I'm being an idiot. You don't want to talk about it, I should have realised that. We can talk about something else."

"No, no, it's fine. I'm just not used to trying to describe this. But it's important to me that you understand…I'm not sure you realise fully what it is I am."

"Remus, you're clearly one of the kindest people I've ever met, and I really don't care about anything else."

"It's not that simple."

"Yes, it is."

"No, it's –" He stopped himself, paused to take a deep breath. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to argue with you. These are things I feel strongly about, but I don't mean to be combative."

Tonks wanted to apologise again for bringing up the subject at all, but she could tell he would only wave off any apology she attempted. "Thanks for being willing to talk about it," was all she could think to say.

He nodded, looking lost in thought. Then he said, "May I ask you something?"

Tonks looked over at him in surprise at his serious tone. "Yeah, of course."

"How did you – I mean, when did you find out that I…am what I am? That I'm a werewolf? It's never come up, but I had the sense you knew before we met."

"Yeah, I think Moody mentioned it, when he told me about the Order."

Remus was staring at her. "You _think_ it was Moody who mentioned it. You don't remember."

"No, I mean, I guess it could have been someone else. Maybe Sirius said something."

"And how did you feel when you learned that?"

"What am I supposed to feel about it? It's just a fact."

Remus put his hands on his head, very much as if he were trying to keep something from exploding out of it. In a measured voice, he said, "But that's not possible. You must have had _some_ reaction when you first heard, even if only for a moment. How did you feel about joining an organisation that had a known werewolf in it?"

"I guess if anything, I felt bad for you, because obviously that's a horrible thing for anyone to have to deal with. Like, you know, Oh, poor guy, that must be awful. But honestly, I was probably too excited to be joining the Order at all to be paying much attention to details."

Remus was shaking his head. "I'm sorry, but I find that hard to believe. Everyone has a reaction of _some_ sort. Even Sirius reacted, when he first found out, back at school. The Weasleys certainly reacted. Even Mad-Eye Moody reacted! You can't honestly tell me you learned something like that and _didn't react_."

"Look," Tonks said, finally losing patience with all this self-flagellating. "Remus, think for just a second about who my parents are. A pureblood witch who left her family and let them disown her for the sake of the Muggleborn guy she fell in love with, and a Muggleborn wizard who started his life in the magical world right when pureblood prejudice was at its very, very worst. I got it _drilled_ into me all my life that all people are equal, that you never judge someone for who they are or where they came from. You think I'm seriously going to think badly of somebody because of a medical condition they can't help?"

Remus was staring at her, the intensity of his attention on her making Tonks' cheeks burn. "You are a wonder," he said, very softly.

Looking back at him, Tonks finally ran the things he'd said – _Everyone has a reaction. You must have had_ some _reaction._ – through her brain and winced.

Obviously there was a good reason he was having trouble understanding her lack of concern about this. Clearly he'd met with negative reactions throughout his life, over and over and over, and been conditioned to believe no one would ever accept him as he was. And here she was, snapping at him over it.

"Remus –" she started.

"It's fine," he interrupted, with a brittle smile. "I shouldn't have asked. I was simply surprised that it's never come up in the time I've known you, that's all."

"Remus," she tried again, not sure what she would say.

"Nymphadora – Tonks – look, isn't there some kind of compromise we can reach about your name?"

"A compromise about my name?" she asked, distracted despite herself.

"I understand, yes, 'Nymphadora' is dreaded and unspeakable, but I keep tripping over calling you just 'Tonks'. Surely we can find some middle ground."

"My dad –" Even as she heard herself saying it, she couldn't quite believe her ears. "My dad…calls me Dora."

"Does that mean I'm allowed to call you Dora?"

Slowly, almost unwilling: "…Yes."

He gave her a quizzical look. "Does it really?"

"Yes."

"Okay, then. Dora."

For a moment, they both just listened to how that sounded.

Then she said, "Yes, Remus?"

He laughed. A real laugh, finally. "And now I've forgotten what I meant to say."

"All the better," she said, with a relieved exhale. "Let's talk about something else."

But when she caught Remus surreptitiously hiding a yawn not long after that, she stood up and insisted on leaving him in peace, despite his protestations.

He saw her downstairs and opened the door, then peered out into the night, frowning first at her and then into the darkness. "Perhaps I should see you to your door."

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Remus, I'm an Auror! Looking after myself in dangerous situations is literally my job."

"Yes, but still."

"Your concern is touching, but you do realise, don't you, that in a duel between the two of us, I'd win?"

His smile at her was such a sweet thing, gently crinkling up the corners of his eyes. "Oh, I'm well aware of that, I assure you."

"Well, then."

"All right."

Tonks cast about for something to say. "I'll be back soon, I'm sure. I always seem to be underfoot here, just ask Sirius."

"All right." It surprised her to see Remus similarly tongue-tied. But then, the conversation they'd just had hadn't been the easiest of things.

"Good night, then," she said.

"Good night, Dora. Get home well."

She hovered awkwardly another moment then, before she could think about it too much, reached over and gave him a hug before hurrying down the steps, feeling her face flush. She didn't dare look back before she turned on the spot and Disapparated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again! I'll also mention here my story "[Forget this Tapestry](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1097455)," which is another time Andromeda visits Sirius at Grimmauld Place, and in the overall timeline would fall at some point after this chapter. "Forget this Tapestry" is part of a series called "[La Ronde Noire,](http://archiveofourown.org/series/65093)" about the Black family cousins and their interactions, if you're interested in that!


	5. Surviving October

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I'm failing at this posting-on-Fridays thing, I realize... But my schedule is erratic right now due to travel, and also I couldn't resist the appeal of posting the chapter about October on the first day of actual October!

 

_I hold the shovel upside down_  
 _Takes all my strength to turn it around_  
 _Wish I had more to give_  
 _Than the will to let you go_  
  
 _–Jennie Stearns, Angel with a Broken Wing_

 

The next couple weeks passed without anything, werewolf-related or otherwise, taking him away from London, and Remus found himself grateful simply to stay put for once.

He took his turns at guard duty at the Ministry, and went up north once to keep an eye on Hogsmeade, but mostly he holed up in the house, doing some research in the extensive magical library left by Sirius' father, looking into spells for Dumbledore. Other Order members stopped through periodically, never staying long, each busy with their own assignments.

Tonks, as promised, was a frequent visitor, bringing her good cheer into the dour house. She had an undeniable knack for teasing Sirius out of his bad moods, Remus observed, impressed. When she was there, 12 Grimmauld Place felt almost like a…home. Remus almost didn’t dare to think it, so foreign was the concept after years of being transient and alone.

Ironic, of course, that the house Sirius hated so much was becoming more of a home to Remus than he'd had in a long time, given that a series of bedsits and derelict cottages, each dingier than the last, hardly merited that title.

Home. The thing Remus would always secretly want, and knew he could never fully have. In truth, he would like nothing more than to one day settle down and be normally, boringly happy with someone, but he knew better than to believe he could have that, had always known better than to believe it. Remus was a dangerous, destitute Dark creature, and he could not in good conscience wish himself on anyone. Least of all someone whose well-being he cared about.

Having friends like Sirius and Tonks was already far more than he could ever have wished for. It was more than enough.

Autumn swept in and October passed by and Remus didn't even realise it was Halloween until he was walking back to Grimmauld Place one evening in the falling dusk and found the pavement overrun with giggling hordes of masked Muggle children, dashing about and churning up the fallen leaves, leaving behind them a crisp scent of autumn.

Remus’ first instinct was to run and hide, maybe drink his way to incoherence in some disreputable Muggle bar where no wizard would think to look for him. Every year he thought surely the pain of losing your dearest friends must fade with time, but every year October came and caught him breathless, felled him with his own failures.

What stopped him from running now was the thought of Sirius, who couldn't run even if he wanted to. And as much as Remus deeply, desperately didn't want to talk about it, he figured that if Sirius did, it was his responsibility to listen.

He let himself into the house and hung up his cloak, then followed his instinct and headed straight for the kitchen.

Sirius was there, slouched at the long table with a bottle of Firewhisky uncapped in front of him.

"Ah, good," Remus said. "You've had the same idea."

Sirius peered up at him from behind his lank curtain of hair. "I goddamn hate it, Moony."

"Yes," Remus agreed. "Give us a drink, then."

Sirius poured and Remus took the seat next to him. They lifted their glasses in a silent toast, then drained them.

Remus shuddered. "Ugh."

"Here," said Sirius. "Have another."

They did.

Sirius' eyes were bloodshot, but his voice and his hands remained steady, despite the suspiciously low level in the bottle. But then, he'd always been the one of them best at holding his liquor. James had tended to become ebullient after a couple drinks, expansive in his gestures and physically affectionate to a degree that made even Sirius uncomfortable. Peter had just turned red and grown less and less coherent, until he eventually slumped over and fell asleep. And Lily, when she joined them, Lily had sat there sipping her drink and looked perfectly collected as she watched the rest of them, her boys, and smirked at them as they grew sillier and louder.

"I still want to kill Peter," Sirius informed him now. "I haven't forgotten. That was the whole point of getting out."

"No," Remus said. "Well, yes. It was. But now you have something more important. Protecting Harry. Fighting Voldemort. You hate Voldemort more than you hate Peter, don't you?"

"No," Sirius spat. "I _don't_."

And Remus found he couldn't argue with that.

They had another drink.

"Harry isn't like James," Sirius muttered. "He's more…responsible. And caring."

"Oh," Remus said. "Heavens forbid he be caring and responsible."

"Less fun."

"Because we're a right old barrel of laughs ourselves."

"I told you, didn't I, he's starting a secret defence thing?"

"Secret defence thing?"

"Hermione's idea, she talked him into it. Getting together with some of the others to learn actual defence, Harry teaching them. Since they aren't learning anything in class with that Umbridge woman."

"That bitch," Remus growled.

Even through the haze of alcohol, Sirius looked surprised. "Sharp tongue you've got tonight, Moony."

"I hope they're being careful. If she catches them doing anything…"

"Remus. Stop worrying. Have another drink."

They did. Remus listened to the clock tick, somewhere behind the pots and pans. The silence stretched out.

"I'm sorry," he said at last.

Sirius turned, with effort, to peer at him. "What can you possibly be sorry for?"

"For not trusting you. Not trusting myself. Trusting Peter, when we must have been blind not to see we weren't just drifting away from him, he was distancing himself deliberately. Not taking it seriously enough, thinking nothing could really happen to James because it was _James_ , he was invincible, wasn't he? I would have protected him and Lily and Harry with my life, truly I would have, but somehow I couldn't quite believe it would really come to that. I could have stayed with them, you could have stayed with them, someone from the Order should have been there at all times, we just left them alone…"

Sirius was shaking his shoulder, hard. "Remus. Remus, damn it, stop."

Remus felt himself teetering perilously close to tears, but forced them back, savage and angry. "I should have protected them."

"Don't be an idiot, it's not your fault! None of it's your fault! You _were_ protecting them, you always protected all of us. I was the idiot for trusting –" Sirius' hand clenched convulsively and he couldn't even bring himself to say the name. "Remus, all of it is _my fault._ How can you not know that?"

But Remus had gone beyond the point of no return. "When I think of that night, of Halloween… When I stopped by to see them, and Lily said you'd just been, and Peter would be coming over later… She was anxious, said she had a bad feeling, and I told her to relax, everything was fine, they were safe. She was standing there in the living room, holding Harry… James was making jokes even then, saying Lily invented Voldemort ten times a day out of shadows and drapery… They were so young. James was making jokes and I was laughing with him, to put Lily at ease. And that was the last night."

Sirius turned in his chair to face him, gripping both his shoulders so Remus was forced to look him in the eyes. His voice was slow but clear, urgent. "Remus, listen to me. It is vitally important that you understand this. Everything is my fault. I was supposed to be the Secret-Keeper, I made the switch. I chose to trust Peter and I stopped trusting you. God knows why. I killed them, just as much as Peter did. Every minute in Azkaban, I knew I deserved it. You're not responsible."

"I should have protected them," Remus whispered.

Sirius shook his head, and Remus realised Sirius had tears in his eyes. Then he realised he himself did too.

"Nothing will bring them back," Sirius said, his voice rough. "It's just how it is. There's nothing we can do."

There was a long silence and the far-away ticking of the clock. Remus felt drained, as if he'd run an unfathomable distance. "I'm glad you came back," he said, finally. "It's less alone." 

Sirius stared back at him, humble and laid bare. "I'm glad, too," he said. "It's more than I deserved."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple more stories about Remus and Sirius during those in-between years, if you're interested:
> 
> [Skellig, Azkaban, Albion, Éire](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1158145) – Sirius alone among the waves, and Remus drawn to the far-flung edges of the world.  
> [Cast Your Soul to the Sea](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1160738) – leaving England behind him, Remus is not as alone as he thinks.  
> [What I Have Taken Long Before](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1463332) – Sirius arrives to "lie low at Lupin's" (just prior to the start of this story).


	6. The Classics Reimagined

 

  
_Tell me what’s the point of light  
That you have to strike a match to find?  
  
–Josh Ritter, Lantern_

 

  
"Ms Tonks," said a voice.  
  
Tonks' drooping eyelids snapped open. She hadn't been on the verge of dozing off at her desk in the middle of the day after a long night of guard duty, no, she hadn't…  
  
"May I ask," continued the voice, from just behind and to her left, "whether you plan on reading that report today, or only gazing into space over it?"  
  
Tonks whipped around to face her boss, imposing as always with his mane of hair and severe expression. He reminded her of a lion – a decidedly unfriendly lion. "Mr Scrimgeour," she said. "Sir. I'm so sorry, I just –"  
  
And then inspiration struck. _Dodge and feint_ , Arthur had said.  
  
"It's just that, well – I've met someone." One of the many fabulous things about being a Metamorphmagus was the ability blush on cue. "It's all very new, and I guess my mind was wandering for a moment there…"  
  
It wasn't even entirely a lie. She'd met many new people, since joining the Order. And there was even truth to the implication that one person in particular was occupying her thoughts lately, though the individual in question might be surprised to find himself suddenly designated her boyfriend.  
  
"I know I've been a little unfocussed lately, sir, and I’m sorry. I promise I'll have my feet back on the ground soon!"  
  
Scrimgeour blinked at her. "Well. See that you do."  
  
Tonks breathed a sigh of relief as he left. She made sure her boss was out of sight, then scrambled off to find somewhere she could get a good Muggle-style double shot of espresso.  
  
– – – – –  
  
The truth was that being a member of the Order of the Phoenix – while a great honour and a not inconsiderable learning experience and often even a reasonable amount of fun – was not quite as swashbuckling as Tonks might have hoped.  
  
They took their turns at guard duty, huddling under an Invisibility Cloak overnight outside the Department of Mysteries, hoping to keep Voldemort and his cronies away from the Prophecy he so clearly wanted.  
  
They met for occasional large meetings and more frequently in smaller groups, discussing and re-discussing everything they knew about the Death Eaters, everything they suspected about which way the goblins might lean or how things were unfolding among the giants.  
  
They studied blueprints of key buildings – the Ministry, Hogwarts, St Mungo's – learning their layouts backwards and forwards, just in case it should ever come to fighting there. They did inconspicuous sweeps of Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley, on the lookout for suspicious behaviour. They listened to Snape's reports of Voldemort's half-formed plans and discussed how they might thwart those plans without jeopardising Snape's position by seeming to know too much.  
  
Sometimes Dumbledore asked one or another of them to do specific reconnaissance – as Remus was always being sent off to do, Remus with his gentle touch and steely determination that made him so right for the job – or they staked out known Death Eater gathering points in the hope of gleaning something new. They tried to spread the truth and to keep Voldemort from gaining any more followers, though in reality, their ability to do either of those things was limited.  
  
Mostly, it was watching and waiting. An enormously frustrating amount of watching and waiting.  
  
Which was precisely what she was doing now, finally on her first Order stakeout mission as a sidekick to Mad-Eye Moody, watching an abandoned factory building where they’d heard a couple of Death Eaters were supposed to meet with a contact from abroad.  
  
They waited through very long hours of bitter November cold, tucked behind the dustbins in a dank alley, watching their breath in the air, before finally seeing…nothing. No one showed.  
  
After giving up the mission at last and retiring to a bar some distance away – or more accurately, after giving up the mission and sneaking through the darkness to a nearly identical alley several streets down, then Apparating three or four times to different spots around London just to throw off any nonexistent tails, _then_ casing every joint until they finally found a dingy bar that passed Moody's muster as nondescript yet crowded enough to provide a safe place to talk once aided by several complex charms he cast to protect their conversation from prying ears – after all that and after she'd bought herself a Firewhisky to keep pace with Moody and his hip flask, Tonks flung herself back down in her seat and asked, "Mad-Eye, is there really a point?"  
  
Her former mentor regarded her shrewdly. "You were expecting a bit more adventure when you signed up for the Order?"  
  
"No! Okay, yes. But I don't just mean that. I want to feel we're actually changing something. Are we?"  
  
Moody shrugged in that infuriating way of his. "We're doing what we can."  
  
"I want to do _more_."  
  
"I'm sure you do."  
  
"Mad-Eye," Tonks whined. The really great thing about her relationship with Moody was that she could be as irritating as she liked and he'd never entirely give up on her. In fact, she suspected he secretly enjoyed their banter. "Give me something more here. I feel like we're just doing figure eights over the pitch. …That's a Quidditch metaphor, by the way, and it means –"  
  
" _Yes_ , Tonks, you feel we're not getting anywhere. I do get the picture."  
  
"We're letting You-Know-Who call the shots. He plots, we just watch. He takes action, all we do is respond."  
  
"And what would you have us do?"  
  
"Find them! Fight them now!"  
  
"And that would lead to…?"  
  
"Lots of casualties on our side," she grumbled. "Because we're still outnumbered and we haven't got the Ministry with us."  
  
"And what would happen then?"  
  
"Harry left unprotected, Order weakened, no improvement at the Ministry. Etcetera. Your Socratic method is annoying, Mad-Eye."  
  
He granted her a rare smile, which looked frankly weird on his heavily scarred face. "Good girl, Tonks. Knew you had the answers."  
  
"It just seems like – couldn't we be doing something a bit more…active? I know the layout of the Ministry now so well I could walk it in my sleep backwards, but You-Know-Who's still out there and we're hardly even trying to catch him."  
  
"Things will change once he's acting in the open. If nothing else, the Ministry will see sense. Perhaps they’ll even make themselves useful."  
  
"Oh, goody, I'll just look forward to You-Know-Who's big coming out party then, shall I?"  
  
"Yes, and make sure while you wait that you’re as damn well prepared as you can."  
  
Tonks grumbled and slurped her drink.  
  
"Patience, Tonks."  
  
"Haven't got any."  
  
"Then you might want to learn some," Moody growled at her. "This is not a war for the impetuous. Just look at Potter – if we left that boy to his own devices, he'd be getting himself killed every other day."  
  
"I'm pretty sure a person can only get killed once per lifetime, actually."  
  
"You get my point. You-Know-Who doesn't play nice. He's going to fight dirty and he's going to use every weapon he can get his hands on. It's our job to be just as prepared, to know at least as much about him as he knows about us." Moody swivelled to fix her with the full force of both his eyes, the normal one and the magical one that often seemed to bore not just through walls but also into its quarry's thoughts. "I can fairly well promise you there will come a time, soon, when you will have the opportunity to put your life on the line for this cause, if you so choose. And I can absolutely assure you that not all of us will come out of this alive. I hope that will prove a satisfactory adventure?"  
  
Tonks could only gape at him. And Moody seemed to take the fact that he’d actually managed to get her to shut up as a sign that his message had got through.  
  
– – – – –  
  
Well, if they couldn't have adventures, Tonks decided after the night of the non-eventful stakeout, they could at least have some fun.  
  
"I think we should have a film night," she announced to Sirius the next time she was back in his basement kitchen, doing her usual bit to badger him into forgetting to be melancholy.  
  
Sirius fixed her with a stare of superior disbelief, an expression he’d clearly perfected over the years. "A _what_ , Tonks?"  
  
"A film night. Or, you know, a games night or something. A social event. You guys are practically the only people I see anymore anyway, so we might as well occasionally have fun instead of just sitting round muttering about Dark wizards all the time. I can make popcorn…" Her cousin was still staring at her as if she’d been hit with a Disfigurement Jinx. "What part's not getting through? The popcorn? Oh, it's a Muggle thing, I always forget you're such a pureblood…"  
  
"I know what popcorn is," Sirius growled.  
  
"Good, then it's settled!"  
  
Sirius opened his mouth, but for the moment seemed incapable of speech.  
  
"What's the problem, Sirius?" came Remus' amused voice from the doorway. "I've never seen you turn down a girl who wanted to watch a film with you. Or did your policy on that change?"  
  
Tonks turned to glare at the newcomer. "I did _not_ mean it like that, as you very well know. And since you're invited too, it's hardly a date. Have you two entirely forgotten how to have fun?"  
  
"Yes," said Sirius.  
  
"Almost," said Remus.  
  
"Utterly hopeless," said Tonks. "And irritating," she added, for good measure.  
  
She was rewarded with one of those gentle Remus smiles that always made her stomach swoop just the tiniest bit. He turned to Sirius, "What do you say, Padfoot? Can we bear to give up just one night of our curmudgeon-hood?"  
  
Tonks was pleased to see the two of them looking more light-hearted, not to mention Remus using a nickname for Sirius for once. They'd both seemed tense lately, but when she'd asked Remus about it, he'd only said, "It's a difficult time of year," and left it at that. Tonks hadn't pushed him to say more. She was getting better, slightly, at not being so nosy.  
  
Sirius' about-face came so fast, she didn't hear what he said the first time round. "Wait, what?"  
  
"I said, only if we get to pick the film."  
  
"That's a yes!" she rejoiced. Then, "Wait, should I be worried?"  
  
Sirius just looked secretive. "How about Friday?"  
  
"I'll make the popcorn."  
  
Both men, having experienced Tonks' attempts at cooking, looked concerned.  
  
"Maybe I should take care of that…" Remus murmured.  
  
"It's just popcorn," Tonks said. "How much can go wrong?"  
  
She discovered how much could go wrong on Friday, before finally throwing up her hands in defeat and retreating from the smoke-filled kitchen where inexplicably the popcorn kernels had started magically – and rapidly – multiplying themselves. Remus took over and had the situation back under impeccable control within five minutes.  
  
"Show-off," she muttered when he emerged a short while later with perfect, golden bowls of popcorn. He just smiled.  
  
They'd settled on the drawing room for the evening and Sirius had lit a crackling fire, which went quite a long way towards making the stiff old room seem cosy. The two housemates had obtained an old Muggle video recorder from who knows where – and actually, Tonks decided as she surveyed the device, she didn't really want to know where. The thing was so ancient, it looked as if it might disintegrate at the slightest touch.  
  
Sirius patted it fondly – and gently. "Ah, Muggle technology in my parents' home," he said. "I think it would be worth it even if the thing doesn’t turn out to work at all. I’d happily just sit here and watch the blank screen for two hours."  
  
"Please tell me that's not _actually_ what's on the programme for the evening," Tonks said.  
  
In answer, Sirius popped the video into the player, making a big show of not letting her see the title. Then they arranged themselves on the settee against the far wall, Tonks squeezed in next to Remus, who was next to Sirius.  
  
"Ready?" Sirius asked, pointing his wand at the video recorder.  
  
Within moments, Tonks was craning her neck round Remus to stare at her cousin. "Seriously, Sirius? This is your big, secret surprise? The Wizard of Oz?"  
  
She'd seen the film before, of course, thanks to her dad, who was into Muggle classics. And she liked it well enough, but it didn't seem quite equal to all the build-up and secrecy on Sirius' part.  
  
"Not only," he replied.  
  
"We do a…special version," Remus said. "In fact, unfortunately you're not actually going to get to hear any of the original soundtrack at all." As Remus spoke, Sirius flicked his wand at the screen again, muttering a silencing charm.  
  
Tonks was at sea. "Wait a minute, Sirius, how do you even know Muggle films?"  
  
"A certain infuriatingly highbrow werewolf of our mutual acquaintance used to make us sit down and watch old Muggle films over summer holidays. To keep from dying of boredom, James and I had to invent our own version of the procedure."  
  
"All right," Remus interjected. "Let's get this straight. Lily is still Dorothy, isn't she?"  
  
"Always."  
  
"Is James still Toto?"  
  
A snigger. "You bet."  
  
"You assigned your friends roles in the film?" Tonks asked, once again trying to keep up with all the history these two men shared.  
  
"Filling in their lines as we see fit," Sirius added.  
  
"You did once say you wanted to know more about our friends," Remus said, sounding apologetic.  
  
"And James agreed to be the dog?" Tonks wondered.  
  
Remus considered. "Well, at first he was Dorothy – he did always like being the main character in everything we did – until Lily came on the scene and he got demoted. But by that point he was so smitten with her, he pretty much did anything we told him to."  
  
"Not true," Sirius interjected. "He was always trying to get us to let him be the Wizard himself. Which is absurd, of course –"  
  
"Because the Wizard is… can you guess?"  
  
Tonks broke into a grin. "Dumbledore!"  
  
"And I imitate a good Dumbledore, if I do say so myself," Remus agreed.  
  
"Look, there are the Potters," Sirius interrupted.  
  
"James' parents," Remus explained in an undertone. "They really were very much the kindly-auntie-and-uncle type."  
  
Sirius was muttering dialogue under his breath, in what Tonks could only assume were the voices of long-dead James' longer-dead mother and father. It didn't mean much to her, but it seemed to be making Remus wrestle with an increasingly irrepressible grin, and that was a sight Tonks was glad to see.  
  
"Ah, there we are," Remus said fondly. "Or will be, since they're still only Kansas farmhands at this point."  
  
Of course, she realised, the four friends had been the four main characters. "So, who's who?"  
  
"Well, that's easy," said Sirius. "Remus is the Tin Man."  
  
"Why the Tin Man?"  
  
"Are you kidding? Wouldn't harm a Doxy but still doesn't believe he's got a heart?"  
  
"And Sirius is the Scarecrow because he has no brain," Remus shot back.  
  
"That's me," Sirius agreed cheerfully. "Always tumbling about with no common sense."  
  
"Who's the lion?" Tonks asked, cautious.  
  
"He was a coward after all," Remus said, "and he's since been written out of the story." That was the last any of them said about that.  
  
"Ooh, I can see down Lily's blouse," Sirius murmured in the voice of James-Toto, as Judy Garland sang and the dog watched her from atop a piece of farm machinery. "Wonder if there's a hex that would make her forget I'm an arrogant prat? Then maybe I could get her to marry me…"  
  
"Next time, James, I'm going to _let_ the Wicked Witch steal you," Remus replied as Lily-Dorothy. Then in his own voice: "Right, Sirius, because marriage was really the first thing on James' mind at seventeen."  
  
"Well, he acted high-minded enough, when he was mooning about over her." Sirius cast a sly look across the settee. "Much like you about What's-Her-Name, that Ravenclaw girl."  
  
Tonks felt Remus stiffen beside her. "Sirius, surely you're not actually trying to tease me about a schoolboy crush I had _two decades ago_?"  
  
"Well, yeah, if it works," Sirius answered, unrepentant.  
  
Tonks was surprised by a sudden desire to know what this unnamed Ravenclaw had been like. What kind of girl had interested a school-aged Remus? Had he really hoped to marry her, like James had Lily? Was it being a werewolf that held him back? In fact, would Remus be long since married with kids, if not for that one inconvenient fact?  
  
"Look, it's the Witch!" Sirius crowed in delight, oblivious to the angst taking place down at the other end of the settee.  
  
Tonks gave herself a mental shake and returned to the present. "Okay, so who's the Wicked Witch of the West, then? McGonagall maybe, if Dumbledore is the Wizard?"  
  
"Don't be ridiculous!" Sirius said. "The Witch is Snape!"  
  
"Snape?"  
  
"Always was and always will be," Sirius said happily. "Oh, look at him, peddling along in that ridiculous dress. I love it. I can't wait till he melts."  
  
"Okay, fine, the Witch would be somebody you saw as a bad guy in real life," Tonks agreed. "But then wouldn't the actual bad guy have been…well…You-Know-Who?"  
  
"Hush," Remus said. "We were highly self-centred youths."  
  
"There goes Snape again," Sirius fairly squealed a bit later, as Dorothy's house crushed the Wicked Witch of the East.  
  
"But I thought –?"  
  
"Snape is both witches," Remus explained with a slight shake of his head. "It's just the way it's always been."  
  
So she sat back and let them entertain her, comfortably wedged in against Remus' shoulder and munching on popcorn. Sirius certainly had creative dialogue at hand for the various characters, but to her surprise, Remus was the better mimic and had her in stitches with his wise and inscrutable Dumbledore. She hadn't laughed so hard in a long time, and suspected the two of them hadn't either.  
  
As the end credits rolled, Tonks found herself wiping tears of mirth from her eyes. "You two…" she said. "You're absolutely mad."  
  
"You should see what we can do with some other old classics," Sirius suggested with a glint in his eye.  
  
But Remus said firmly, "I think we've subjected Dora to enough for one night, Sirius."  
  
Tonks could fairly see Sirius' sharp ears perk up at this unexpected new nickname, but at least he had the grace not to ask. Tonks concentrated on not letting her cheeks turn red and hurried to distract them with the suggestion that they try to find some kind of game to play.  
  
"My parents owned common, childish games," Sirius marvelled, when they'd unearthed a battered Gobstones set from one of the room's dusty cupboards. "Who knew."  
  
"I haven't played this since Hogwarts," Remus said, shaking his head.  
  
"Neither have I," Tonks agreed.  
  
"Yes, but that was –"  
  
"More recent than for you. I know, I know."  
  
They were just setting up the pieces on a low table by the fire when the quiet was interrupted by a magically amplified knock at the front door.  
  
"Expecting visitors, Sirius?" Remus asked.  
  
Sirius shook his head, looking baffled, and they all trooped downstairs to investigate.  
  
"Bill!" Tonks squealed, still slaphappy from the evening's entertainment, when they opened the door to reveal the eldest Weasley son on the top step. "Come and join the party!"  
  
"I swear, she hasn't even had anything to drink," Sirius deadpanned from behind her, stepping forwards to usher Bill inside and close the door.  
  
"And here I was, afraid it would be too late in the evening to stop by," Bill said. "What's the occasion?"  
  
"No occasion," Remus said.  
  
"The occasion of not talking exclusively about Dark wizards for once," Tonks said.  
  
"I'll drink to that," Bill agreed.  
  
"Which, now that you both mention it," Tonks mused, "is actually a good idea."  
  
So Bill joined them in the drawing room for a cup of mead Sirius unearthed from somewhere and a round of a game they had all last played in their days as callow schoolkids. Tonks had forgotten how very silly Gobstones was, with the pieces squirting liquid all over the place and the good-natured arguments about whose stones were which.  
  
"That was _yours_ ," Tonks yelped in protest, as Sirius ducked out of the way and his Gobstone caught her full in the face with a jet of foul-smelling liquid. He simply shrugged and gave her a maddening grin.  
  
By the end of the game, of course, Tonks looked as though she'd met with the bad end of a Potions class explosion, while Remus looked as unruffled as if he'd done no more than sit and read a good book by the fireside the entire time. Sirius and Bill fell somewhere in between.  
  
Tonks grouched and grumbled as she left the room to find somewhere to rinse her hair and face, but secretly she was pleased. She'd rarely seen such a relaxed mood hold sway in this house, and she was pretty sure she'd never seen Remus and Sirius look so at ease.  
  
"Well, actually I came by to ask a favour," Bill was saying as she re-entered the drawing room. Sirius arched an eyebrow when he seemed reluctant to continue. "Mates of Charlie's agreed to bring over some ingredients we might need – there's a potion Dumbledore mentioned and Emmeline Vance has been wanting to try out. The stuff's not exactly illegal, but – well – I wouldn't want my mother to find out," he finished, abashed.  
  
Sirius clapped a hand on his shoulder. "We quite understand. But where do we come in?"  
  
"They're passing through England tomorrow night and dropping the things off. I'd planned to meet them, but now I've been assigned a night shift at Gringotts that can't be changed." He looked round at them apologetically. "I need someone to wait at the drop-off point…which is outdoors, unfortunately, in a field in Sussex, in the middle of the night."  
  
"I'll go!" Tonks said, the word _Adventure!_ flashing before her mind's eye.  
  
"I can do it," the ever-dependable Remus said at the same moment.  
  
There was a brief pause where neither of them looked at the other.  
  
"That'd be great, actually, if you'd both be willing to go," said Bill, unaware of the undercurrents in the room. "I don't imagine it'd be much fun hanging round in that field alone. They said – well, they said they'd make it there sometime between midnight and three in the morning." He grimaced in sympathy.  
  
"No problem," Remus replied levelly.  
  
Bill gave them the coordinates of the meeting place, and Tonks thought she saw Sirius smirk maddeningly into the sleeve of his robes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the continued interest of noting where other R/T stories would (theoretically) fall within the timeline of this story... It's not technically part of this timeline, of course, but "[Nymphadora Tonks and the Marauder's Box,](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1150918)" the co-written story [stereolightning](http://archiveofourown.org/users/phalaenopsis/pseuds/stereolightning) and I had a ton of fun putting together for the [rt_morelove](rt-morelove.livejournal.com/) exchange last year, would fall somewhere around now, in the autumn of OotP!


	7. Feeling the Pull

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting a bit early again, because (what else!) I'm traveling. Greetings to you all from the Black Sea!

 

_And I'm feeling the pull_   
_Dragging me off again_   
_And I'm feeling so small_   
_Against that big sky tonight_

_–The Swell Season, Feeling the Pull_   
  


 

Remus stared distractedly into the wardrobe of the bedroom he used at 12 Grimmauld Place, not really seeing the pullovers and robes in front of him. He meant to be finding something warm to wear for this midnight rendezvous with Bill's contacts, but his mind was wandering.

_What on Earth are you thinking?_ Remus demanded to himself. _Nymphadora Tonks is not interested in a damaged man like you, surprisingly high tolerance level for socialising with werewolves not withstanding. It would never occur to her to think that way – she's twenty-two years old, practically a kid!_ Although if he was being honest with himself, Tonks with her wisdom and humour reminded him not in the least of a child. She had an Auror's toughness, paired with that irresistible smile, and her infectious kindness and good cheer…

But all that was irrelevant. Remus enjoyed his conversations with Tonks and she seemed to enjoy them as well, but that was all there was too it. There was no need for this odd edginess he felt in the face of a nighttime mission with her. They were friends, that was all, and he valued her friendship very much.

Even he did find himself sharing with her things he rarely told anyone, the confidences flowing easily because of the whole-hearted way she listened.

Remus gave himself a good shake, and thought, _That's enough._ He pulled on a pullover at random, then his winter robes, and hoped Tonks too had thought to dress warmly.

At 11.30 – Remus' own insistence, that they be early, just in case – he concentrated on Bill's description and Apparated to a country lane on the South Downs.

"Wotcher, Remus," came Tonks' voice. He reached out to touch her shoulder, which seemed to elicit a smile, although it was hard to tell in the dark.

"Ready for adventure?" she asked.

"I think it's going to be rather less adventure and more sitting round and waiting," he cautioned.

"Not a problem, I'm good at waiting."

Remus had to smile to himself, because he knew just how patently untrue that was.

Tonks lit the tip of her wand and they set off into the agreed-upon field, harvested but still bearing a thin stubble of wheat. Remus could just make out their breath in the chilly air.

"Bill said they might be pretty late, if they get held up somewhere along the way," Remus warned Tonks, already worrying she would grow tired of hours of his enforced company.

She shrugged. "Have you got somewhere more important to be?"

"No! I didn't mean –"

But she was already laughing, a bright, sharp sound in the cold air. "I'll race you!" she cried and tore off across the field.

When Remus, trying to appear collected and not out of breath, reached where Tonks was waiting in the middle of the field, he unfurled a blanket he'd shrunk and stored in a pocket of his robes, then spread it out on the ground.

"Good thinking," she agreed, as they settled onto it.

"And tea for the wait," he said, producing a Thermos from another pocket.

"Merlin's beard, a Thermos!" she shrieked. "Where did you find this? Not in Sirius' house, for sure. Oh, I haven't seen one of these in years, not since Dad's last one broke. Mum always said there was no point to them, when a warming charm works just as well."

Remus smiled at the delight she could take in such a simple thing. "My mother swore by them. She was Muggle-born too."

"Are your parents –" She looked hesitant. "What happened to your parents?"

"Just normal wizarding diseases. Nothing dramatic. The stress of taking care of me all those years wore on my mother and eventually she took ill. My father died just a couple years ago."

"I'm sorry," she murmured.

"Thank you."

There was a pause, then she added, "I guess I can see why you said it might have been easier on them to send you away as a child."

He shook his head. "I shouldn't have said that. It was unfair of me to suggest they ever thought that way."

They were silent for a bit, and Remus noticed Tonks shivering slightly. Before he could let himself think about it too hard, he reached out and put an arm round her. _This is just a friendly gesture,_ he reminded himself.

"Better?" he asked. She nodded, and indeed she did seem to have stopped shivering, though she wasn't quite looking at him.

Time passed. They drank some tea.

Tonks looked at her watch, and groaned to see it was only barely midnight. "Maybe we should play a game to pass the time," she suggested.

Remus twisted to look at her, having to adjust the just-friendly arm still around her shoulders to do so. "What did you have in mind? You didn't bring that Gobstones set along, I hope…"

"Nope, nothing here but our own brainpower. I dunno, Truth or Dare?" She surveyed their barren surroundings. "Well, in this setting, probably just 'Truth,' I suppose."

"Are you serious?" Remus asked before he could stop himself. "Truth or Dare? Dora, how old _are_ you?"

She pulled a bit away from him. "I'm not a kid, Remus."

"I know, I'm sorry, it's just –"

"Or Never Have I Ever," she declared, turning and fixing him with that penetrating stare.

"And what, pray tell, is that?"

"A drinking game, actually, but if you don't have anything to drink, you can count down on your fingers instead. Everybody takes turns saying things they've never done and for each one, if you've done it, you have to put a finger down. Whoever gets all ten fingers first, loses."

"I veto that on the principle that I have a thirteen-year disadvantage and am guaranteed to lose."

"Oh, you never know," she replied, with a smile that made Remus feel unaccountably warm despite the cold air.

"Erm," he said. "How about just 'Truth,' then?"

"It's not too childish for you?" she asked, mock-solicitous.

"No, no."

"You aren't going to be mortified when word of this gets back to all your professor buddies at Hogwarts?"

"Dora, I'm not a professor anymore. I was hardly even one in the first place, just a stand-in for a year." He hesitated.

"But?"

"But… I suppose I would, in fact, appreciate if you didn't tell anyone that I was mad to agree to playing Truth or Dare in some abandoned field on the Downs at midnight on a freezing night in November. …Or at least just don't tell Sirius?"

Tonks' laugh rang out clearer than the starlight overhead. "It's a deal."

Watching Tonks laugh, Remus couldn't help but find his eyes drawn to the warm curve of her lips… _Stop it!_ He shook himself again. There seemed to be something about being here in the darkness together that was hurtling him towards an understanding about himself and his emotions that he wasn't sure he wanted to understand.

"I'll go first," Tonks was saying. "First question: When did you last play Truth or Dare, and what specifically was your last truth and/or dare?"

"With the Marauders, of course – Sirius and James and Peter, that is. That's what we called ourselves. I think the last time was probably just before we finished Hogwarts. We played it a lot, though, for a while there."

"Do you remember the specific last time? What was your last dare?"

"Probably the time Sirius made me jump in the lake fully clothed. Not exactly creative, but aggravating enough. Aggravating was his speciality."

That made her chuckle. "Okay, now it's your turn. Ask me a question."

"Er… Who were your closest friends at Hogwarts?"

"Lame question, Remus! These are supposed to be embarrassing. But, okay, my closest friend was a girl called Ariadne, and then there were two other girls in my house that we were also friends with, Bea and Annagret. But I hung out with the blokes a lot too, because they did more interesting things, by which clearly I mean they got in more trouble. I spent a lot of time with the guys on the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, when I was on the team my last couple years." She considered him. "Okay, let's see. Who was your closest female friend at Hogwarts?"

"Lily."

"Really?" She seemed to have expected a different answer.

"Yes, really. James didn't have a monopoly on her. In fact, we were on good terms long before she would even exchange civil words with him. I believe there were a number of years when she considered me the only even slightly redeemable one out of the four of us."

Tonks snorted appreciatively, then asked, "Did you ever fancy her?" Her eyes widened in horror and she clapped her hands over her mouth. "No, no, I take it back! I didn't ask that!"

He waved aside her protestations. "It's fine, because the answer is no. It wasn't like that at all. I think Lily was too feisty for me and I was too quiet for her."

"Oh."

"I mean – you know, at that time, when I was a nervous schoolboy trying to hide my terrible secret from the world."

"Terrible secret?"

"I'm a werewolf, Dora."

"Oh, right," she said. "That."

"Yes, that," Remus echoed. He'd never met another person so singularly unbothered by his condition. Even James and Sirius had taken a bit of time to adjust when they'd found out, though they'd never wavered in their support of him. Remus frankly didn't know whether to fall at Tonks' feet in gratitude or shake her for her stupidity.

"Your turn to ask a question."

"Right, sorry." He cast about, but couldn't come up with anything, at least not anything appropriate to ask someone who, when it came down to it, he still hardly knew. "I can't think of a question. Would you like to suggest one?"

"Not how it works!"

"Okay, erm… What was…what was…the worst danger you've ever been in as an Auror?"

"First year of my training," she answered promptly. "We were cornering this guy – not a Death Eater, just a common criminal, this was before You-Know-Who reared his head again – and I didn't really know what I was doing. I got cut off from the rest of the team and the guy had his wand at my throat before Mad-Eye showed up and zapped him."

Remus felt slightly queasy at the casual way she described her near-death experience at the age of, what, 18? "Perhaps I shouldn't have asked."

"Who was your first girlfriend?" she asked brightly.

Remus was glad he hadn't yet taken a sip of the tea he'd just reached for, because he probably would have choked. "Er."

"Did I mention the rules of the game include no backing out of any question?"

"Simone-who-was-a-girl-a-year-behind-me-in-Ravenclaw," he muttered in a rush.

Beside him, Tonks seemed to grow somehow still. "Were you serious with her?" she asked.

"No, of course not. I never dated a girl for more than a couple months, because I couldn't have her finding out about my condition. There was only so long I could make plausible excuses every full moon."

"Oh, Remus," she groaned, turning great lamp-like eyes of pity on him, which he found hard to bear. "Why are you so _thick?_ "

Which, actually, was a reaction he didn't much enjoy either.

"Whose was the last heart you broke?" he retorted as his next question. It was meant as a joke, but the words came out harshly.

"Bloke in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, around when I first started training," she said, seeming unfazed. "Then I realised dating people who were going to be my colleagues for the rest of eternity probably wasn't the best idea."

It was Remus' turn to be nonplussed. "Oh."

"Whose was the last heart _you_ broke?"

This was getting rather serious rather fast. "I can't imagine it ever went that far. Do I honestly look like a man over whom hearts would break?"

"Suppose it depends who you're asking." Her gaze on him startled with its intensity, but then she glanced away. "Fine then, maybe it was the other way round. Who was the last person to break your heart?"

Oh, but that made the breath catch in his chest. He never talked about this, and not even Sirius had ever really known the depth of it, how much the end had hurt, even though Remus had known it could never last. "A woman I met during the years of the first Order. Not one of us, not a member of the Order, just a normal witch. But she left me."

Tonks' voice was hushed. "Why?"

"I imagine you can guess."

"No."

" _Yes_ , Dora, yes. That's the way it works. I am a liability to myself and others. I'm dangerous, and not only once a month when I could kill or maim the people I care most about if I don't take careful precautions, but also the rest of the time, because I can't hold a job, can't take part in normal society. Being with me means being shunned. Most women get tired of that after a while."

"I'm so sorry you think that's true."

"It _is_ true." He would not let himself clutch at the false hope her pity offered him.

Tonks was still staring at him, and it seemed to Remus, suddenly, that she was sitting terribly close.

"It's my turn to ask." His voice came out hoarse.

"Oh. Yes."

He had to steer them away from these treacherous waters. "How did you first hear about the Order?"

"Mad-Eye Moody, obviously. And you?"

"Dumbledore told us about it before we'd even quite finished Hogwarts. He said he wouldn't take on anyone who was still underage or hadn't yet left school, but that after the end of the year we were welcome, if we liked, to turn our prodigious creative energies to a more worthy cause than transforming Slytherins' breakfast into bats." Remus smiled a little at the memory, the way Dumbledore had seemed all-knowing, yet all-forgiving, even then. "The prodigious creative energies were mainly Sirius and James, of course. I think they only took me along for my research abilities."

Tonks shivered again in the cold, but Remus decided moving any closer to her was not a good idea after all. Instead, he picked up his wand and cast a few warming charms around them. Trying to fill the silence, trying to avoid looking at her. Trying to keep his thoughts from barrelling down the two-lane path of what he wanted and what he couldn't have.

"Those won't last," she said. "The wind always blows them away. Believe me, I've been on enough late-night stakeouts to know."

Remus tried to put on a smile again in response, but he was suddenly aware of being deeply, achingly weary. None of this was fair. He allowed himself a quiet sigh that somehow turned into a yawn halfway through, and stifled it with a hand against his mouth, embarrassed. "I'm sorry. I'm not bored, just tired."

There was some kind of gentleness in her face when she looked at him. Sympathy, he realised. Not pity.

"You can sleep for a bit if you like, I don't mind," Tonks offered.

"No, no, of course not."

"No, really. They probably won't be here for hours and I'm wide awake."

He shook his head. "That wouldn't be fair to you."

"Remus. Come on. Stop being ridiculous." With that, she pushed his shoulders gently but firmly down until his head was resting on her lap, made sure his cloak was wrapped round him and ordered, "Sleep."

To his amazement, he did.

– – – – –

Odd, how just the weight of Remus' arm on her shoulders could succeed where the best of warming charms failed. Although his touch made Tonks shiver in a different way entirely. Odd, how one moment he seemed so open and unguarded, as if they'd known each other years rather than months, and the next he was pushing her away so hard, it felt like a physical force.

An odd one, this Remus Lupin.

She looked down at him resting against her hip, his forehead wrinkled anxiously even in his sleep. "Let go," she whispered to him, smoothing one hand gently over those wrinkles. He sighed and shifted slightly, but didn't wake. Nor did he relax his worry lines. "I'm here. I'll take care of everything."

She meant it, too. At that particular moment, she would have done anything to make the tension slide from his face. With no one around to know or judge, Tonks allowed herself a small moment of honesty: She'd never felt quite like that about anyone before. It was a strange and terrifying feeling.

And there was definitely something in the way Remus had been looking at her tonight. For the first time, she was finally sure it wasn't just her own wishful imagination.

"Why are you fighting me, Remus? Why not at least give this a try?" she whispered to the sleeping man beside her. "This makes sense, whatever this is – it must do, you know, because it's definitely too weird for anyone to have made it up. Trust me, I really, really wasn't looking to meet someone. I wasn't planning to fall for you."

Remus sighed again and for a moment she panicked, thinking he'd heard her. But he slept on.

She pulled her own cloak tighter, cast a few more ineffectual warming charms into the surrounding air and then simply sat still, making it her task not to wake Remus. She didn't even look at her watch. She wanted this memory to stay just as it was, timeless and untouched by the world.

Some time later, Remus opened his eyes just as Tonks was glancing down at him. For one perfect moment, he simply smiled up at her. Then he realised where he was and scrambled into a sitting position, already apologising.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep. How long was I out? I really didn't mean –"

"I _told_ you to sleep," she shot back, fed up.

He rubbed at his face with his hands, disorientated. "Ugh. Not awake yet. Hold on a second. Sorry."

"Maybe we should add Dares to the Truths," Tonks said recklessly and grabbed both his hands, pulling them away from his face, forcing him to see her. Their eyes locked.

There came a terrific BANG from directly overhead.

"Ahoy there!" shouted a voice with a vaguely foreign accent, as four riders swept out of nowhere and landed in front of them, a crate suspended between their brooms. Tonks glanced at her watch – nearly 3.30 a.m.

"Sorry," one of the men grinned. "We got delayed by an updraft over the Channel."

"Not a problem," Tonks replied, trying to drag her brain along to catch up with the sudden shift in circumstances. "Remus here got to have a lovely midnight nap, so no harm done."

Remus was already rising and stepping forwards to help the men unstrap the crate from their brooms, avoiding Tonks' eyes.

"Sure you'll manage this, just the two of you?" another one of them asked.

"We don't have far to go," Remus assured him. "We Disapparate right from here."

"Careful not to tip it round too much," was the men's only instruction. "But it's not like it's going to explode or anything."

"Ah," said Tonks. "Good to know."

Their late-night visitors prepared to take off again, and then, with a cheery wave, shot up into the night sky, leaving a ringing silence behind.

"Shall we?" Tonks asked and Remus nodded, still avoiding direct eye contact. She took hold of the crate with one hand and his arm with the other, since they'd all agreed her flat was a far better location than 12 Grimmauld Place when it came to storing a clandestine box of potion ingredients that Molly wasn't supposed to see, until Bill could come pick it up. Remus had never been to her place, so Side-Along Apparition was the easiest way. "Three, two, one," she murmured, and then they were both pressed into darkness.

They arrived in an alley near the block of flats where Tonks lived in Muggle London, a run-of-the-mill building that happened to have a few wizards mixed in. "It's not much," she told Remus as they prepared to lug the crate up the two flights of stairs. She'd never cared much about her flat one way or another, but now she felt strangely nervous to know what Remus would think of it.

"If you could see some of the places I've lived over the years, you wouldn't be worried," he assured her.

She considered trying somehow to twist that into a mock-suggestive comment, a joke that might lighten the tension hovering between them ( _Yeah, Remus, I'd love to see where you've made your bed…)_ but decided, on second thought, that now was probably not the time.

The crate was surprisingly heavy. Tonks took a quick glance round the empty stairwell – it was nearly 4 a.m. after all – then let a quick _Locomotor_ and a surreptitious flick of her wand lighten their task. She just managed to catch Remus' eye before he looked away again, caught between amusement and disapproval. "Oh, come on," she said. "It's a Saturday night. If anyone does see us, they'll just think they're so drunk, they're hallucinating the sight of a wooden crate floating up the stairs."

She saw amusement win out on his face, though he was careful not to allow their gaze to meet again.

With the crate stowed securely inside her doorway – and Remus lodged just as determinedly outside it – Tonks turned to face him. This was the moment of truth, perhaps, where it was really no longer possible to pretend what was going on wasn't going on, or that she hadn't just practically propositioned him in a wheat field somewhere in Sussex. But she wasn't expecting the sight that met her eyes.

Namely, when she turned to Remus, hovering there in her doorway, she could plainly see that his mouth wanted to kiss her. His eyes were unreadable, his hands were calm, but his mouth gave him away. It struck her speechless.

His mouth wanted to kiss her.

But his lips said, "Good night, Dora," his voice hoarse. Tonks was still so stunned, she simply watched him walk away and down the stairs. Then she slumped against the doorframe, trying to figure out what in Merlin's name had just happened.

After that, Remus made himself scarce until approximately Christmas.


	8. 'Tis the Season

 

_God rest ye merry Hippogriffs_   
_Away ye need not fly_   
_For on this jolly holiday_   
_You'll get a Christmas pie_

_–_ _Traditional_

 

 

Sirius said nothing when Remus finally made an appearance late the next morning, looking bleary-eyed and ever so slightly deranged. _But not the good kind of deranged_ , Sirius reflected ruefully.

Sirius said nothing about the fact that Remus suddenly seemed to have urgent business keeping him away from London almost constantly.

He said nothing whenever Tonks dropped by, looking hopeful but pretending to be cheerfully oblivious.

He said nothing, even though it was getting to the point where what he would most like to do would be to knock both their heads together.

There was an important meeting at the house in early December, attended by almost everyone in the Order, although Remus, of course, managed to be out of the country at the time.

Hagrid was back from the giants, looking significantly worse for the wear, but stubbornly believing there might still be hope. Snape reported that Voldemort still believed he could use others to retrieve the Prophecy for him, and Arthur, Kingsley and Tonks agreed to redouble their lookout for anyone at the Ministry who might have been put under an Imperius curse. There had been a couple of suspicious incidents, first with Sturgis Podmore, then with an Unspeakable called Bode.

McGonagall, when asked how things were holding up at Hogwarts under Umbridge's influence, went icy and still, only her nostrils flaring in a way that any Hogwarts student past or present could have warned Dolores Umbridge meant, quite simply, "Run, NOW!"

Moody suggested increasing Order presence in Hogsmeade and Dumbledore nodded his agreement. Kingsley proposed a few possible reconnaissance missions, but by that point Sirius had tuned out entirely – he wouldn't be going on any of those missions anyway.

Molly took him aside after the meeting to say she would like to invite Harry to their house for Christmas and was that all right with him, but it didn't sound all that much like a question. Sirius ground his teeth and agreed that of course it was for the best.

After everyone left, he walked alone through the enormous house, kicking at the furniture.

The idea of mistletoe didn't come to Sirius until a couple weeks later, and he whistled to himself as he hung up a sprig in the kitchen doorway. It was one of the few useful things he could do.

– – – – –

Remus could hardly believe he had good news to bring Dumbledore for once. It did help to make it worth it, all these months of travel and uncomfortable conditions and even more uncomfortable companions.

He'd been cavorting with werewolves, as Sirius so glibly put it, most full moons over the last half-year. But as he travelled, he also looked up people whose names other Order members gave him, acquaintances and contacts they thought might be sympathetic to their cause. Mostly he received two types of response: They didn't believe Voldemort had returned, or they believed it all too well and were too scared to want to do anything about it.

It was not highly rewarding work.

But now he had met two werewolves – admittedly, two werewolves were not going to turn the tide of the battle, or really affect much of anything at all, but he could bask a little in this rare success, couldn't he? – who believed Voldemort was back, had heard he was recruiting werewolves to his side, and wanted none of it.

These two had chosen to live undercover among humans, rather than as part of a pack, which meant their influence with others was limited. But they'd promised to do what they could to spread the word that there were some on the resistance side willing to accept werewolves, and in exchange Remus had promised them safe harbour in London should they ever need it. That Voldemort might deal harshly with any Dark creature that chose to openly defy him hung heavily in the air between them, though none of them said it outright.

So Remus allowed himself an indulgent moment of enjoying his small victory.

He ducked into a secluded alley on his way back to Grimmauld Place to send a Patronus to Dumbledore – they had all agreed to use this particular type of communication as sparingly as possible in and around the house, to avoid drawing attention to their location – then waited patiently until a response swooped in and found him in the form of a silver phoenix.

 _"Good work, Remus,"_ the Patronus said in Dumbledore's voice. _"Perhaps you could come up and see me tomorrow, if you have the time."_

Remus smiled deprecatingly at himself, to see how praise from his former headmaster still warmed him just as much as it had when he was a boy. Well. Perhaps they were all still children at heart, hoping someone would step in and save them from this war.

He shook off those unpleasant thoughts and turned his steps towards Grimmauld Place, still feeling lighter than he had done in months.

– – – – –

Tonks jerked awake and kicked away the tangle of bedclothes, on a weekday morning that was supposed to have been her one day off after a weekend shift at the Auror Office. Moody's raven Patronus had got in through the window and was cawing insistently at her.

"What –?" she mumbled.

 _"Arthur Weasley injured on guard duty, but now in stable condition,"_ the raven informed her in Moody's brusque tones. _"Would you come to Headquarters and help me escort his family to see him at St Mungo's? Noon today."_

"Unghhh," she groaned out loud. If he was asking her to help with Order business on a weekday, then Moody clearly _knew_ it was her day off. But she sent off a semi-coherent reply and gave up on sleep for the day.

By the time she arrived at Grimmauld Place, around noon, Tonks was feeling more cheerful about the whole prospect. Seeing all the kids again, sooner than expected! And an opportunity to needle Sirius about being an old curmudgeon, that never went amiss! And maybe Remus would have finally decided to stop hiding from her and would be there today!

Yeah, right.

Well, anyway.

She hardly recognised the Sirius Black who answered the door, because he was grinning. Not just smiling, not even sardonically smirking, but well and truly grinning his head off.

"You look like the cat that's got among the pixies," she teased as she stepped into the entryway. "Could it be you're pleased about something?"

"'Tis the season, dear cousin," he replied, refusing to let his spirits be dampened. Then he kissed both her cheeks and bounced off again, belting out a rather non-traditional carol.

Tonks shook her head in amusement and cast round for somewhere to hang her winter cloak, all while avoiding the accursed troll's leg umbrella stand that she managed to trip over approximately every second time she visited the house. She glared in its direction now, hoping it would understand that its presence was unwelcome. She ought to remind Sirius to throw the dratted thing out.

"Tonks!" chorused two voices, and Ginny and Hermione came clattering down the stairs, dressed in Muggle jeans and t-shirts. Belatedly, they remembered to stifle their voices and cast guilty looks at Mrs Black's portrait, which thankfully slumbered on.

Tonks hugged them both in turn, amazed at how fond of these kids she'd grown just over a few weeks in the summer.

"You're our escort?" Ginny asked, her excited whisper not all that much subtler than her shouting. "Hey, maybe you can teach us that Disguising charm you were talking about before term started –"

There was another knock at the door, and Tonks went to let Mad-Eye Moody in, just as Fred, George and Ron came barrelling down the stairs, making frantic hand gestures in lieu of a verbal greeting.

"Surrounded by your fan club already, I see," Moody grumbled, but even he was smiling, seemingly infected by the Christmas cheer. He was wearing the sinister old bowler hat, pulled down low to cover his magical eye, that he persisted in believing made him look inconspicuous, even after years of Tonks telling him otherwise. Fred and George wrung her hand, then Moody's.

Harry appeared on the stairs last, looking pale and drawn. "Wotcher, Harry!" Tonks called up to him, but he only nodded.

Molly emerged from the kitchen, her perpetual haunt, and Sirius turned up again to see them off.

"Are you sure about that hair, Tonks?" Moody asked as they all pulled on their cloaks, casting a doubtful glance at the short pink spikes she'd lately decided were definitely her favourite.

Even Hermione couldn't suppress a grin, and Fred and George chuckled outright.

"What's the joke?" Moody asked testily.

"Your hat, Mad-Eye," Tonks told him, as she'd done perhaps a thousand times before. "If anyone on the Underground is going to be staring, it'll be at you and that ridiculous thing you insist on putting on your head. Not at me having hair like lots of people they pass on the street every day." The kids chorused their agreement.

"Fine then," Moody muttered. "Out you go." And he waved them all through the door and down the street.

On the Underground, Tonks wedged herself in next to Harry, who still looked ill at ease. She was hoping to cheer him up, or at the very least badger him enough to distract him, but that turned out to work about as well as it generally did with Sirius, which was to say, not very. _Like godfather, like godson,_ she thought and gave it up, moving ahead to lead the group out of the Tube station and figuring maybe she could try Harry again later.

At St Mungo's, Arthur was looking extraordinarily chipper for a man who'd just nearly been murdured by an evil wizard's snake. His family was delighted to see him, though the twins, of course, immediately took to pressing their father for details on the attack. As an only child from a quiet, reasonably polite family, Tonks always enjoyed being swept up in the small circus that was the Weasleys.

But once Molly had shooed her children back out to the corridor and invited Tonks and Moody in to join her with Arthur, the conversation took a serious turn: How could Voldemort's snake possibly have got into the Ministry? And why send the snake in at all, when his ultimate purpose was to steal a Prophecy?

"I reckon he sent it as a lookout," Moody said, then dismissed that question in favour of more serious matters, such as why Harry was suddenly receiving visions from within the mind of Voldemort's snake.

"Dumbledore seemed worried about Harry when I spoke to him this morning," Molly put in, looking more than a little worried herself.

"'Course he's worried," Moody retorted. "The boy's seeing things from inside You-Know-Who's snake. Obviously, Potter doesn't realise what that means, but if You-Know-Who's possessing him, he's in more danger than even we thought."

"That's impossible, Alastor," Arthur interjected. "How and why would You-Know-Who possess Harry when he's in London and Harry's at Hogwarts? Besides, it doesn't quite seem like possession, but almost the other way round – the snake wasn't accessing Harry's mind, Harry was accessing the snake's."

"I don't know how You-Know-Who does what he does," Moody replied, "but there's something sinister to it."

"Maybe Harry just had a vision?" Tonks suggested. "You know, the same as any Seer might, and it was only chance that what he saw happened to involve You-Know-Who?"

"Unlikely," was all Moody said to that.

"I hope Dumbledore has some kind of plan about this," Molly fretted. "If You-Know-Who is somehow entering Harry's mind from so far away… Well, he's not really safe anywhere, is he?"

"Don't worry, Molly," Arthur soothed, reaching out his uninjured arm to pat his wife's hand. "You said Dumbledore didn't seem surprised when he heard about this – and that means he's got a handle on what's going on. Let's just wait until we've heard what he suggests."

Molly nodded, though reluctantly. "I suppose we should let you get some rest," she said, gazing down at her husband.

Tonks tugged on Moody's sleeve until he finally noticed her rather unsubtly gesturing that the two of them should step out to the corridor and let Molly have a last few minutes with Arthur alone. Moody was one of the best Aurors, well, ever, as far as Tonks was concerned, but he could be sort of rubbish at interpersonal things.

As they rattled back through the tunnels of the Underground, Molly put a motherly hand on Tonks' arm. "Thank you, dear, for taking the time to see us to the hospital," she said. "I appreciate it very much."

"Oh," said Tonks. "Well – of course."

"Why don't you come by for dinner some evening, now that we're staying at Grimmauld Place again?" Molly suggested. "We'd all love to see you."

Tonks blinked, wondering if she'd imagined that there'd been a particular emphasis on the word "all," and just how much Molly suspected. Oh, and incidentally whether there was any aspect of her personal life at all that would remain private under the watchful eyes of the Order.

– – – – –

Remus watched Sirius, in the days leading up to Christmas.

Remus had eventually run out of pretences for staying away from London, not to mention being dogged by a guilty conscience that said running away was not now nor had it ever been the most effective way to handle a difficult situation.

So he came back at Grimmauld Place, where the house was suddenly bursting with life again as it had done during those first weeks over the summer.

Molly was partly right, Remus thought, as he watched Sirius joking with Harry, the latter handing up Christmas ornaments to where the former was perched precariously on a chair on one of the stair landings. There was undeniably a way in which Sirius took Harry as a replacement James, a new mate to fill the hole left by the old one.

And yet anyone who knew Sirius could tell he never forgot for a second who Harry really was, or how much Sirius felt he owed him for the lost parents, the unhappy childhood, all of it. It made Remus ache to see how badly Sirius wanted Harry to be happy.

 _He's so strong,_ Remus thought. _Stronger than I am. All those years in Azkaban, and still he manages to come back and just want to make us all happy._

Remus, on the other hand, had never mastered the favourite uncle role the way Sirius had done. His own interactions with Harry were more reserved, more teacherly. And that was all right, it was how Remus was. But sometimes he couldn't help taking it as a reminder – here, surrounded by children and Weasleys – that he himself could never be a parent, a father, a favourite uncle. It was his lot in life, by nature of his condition, to be always somewhat on the outside of things.

– – – – –

Sirius watched Remus, in the days leading up to Christmas.

Not all the time, of course. Most of the time he was distracted by jokes with the kids and practical interactions with Molly, as the two of them found themselves running a strange sort of joint household.

For once Sirius was too busy to brood, but he still noticed, as the daily life of the Order took up quarters with them again and half-abandoned 12 Grimmauld Place transformed back into bustling Headquarters, the way Remus effortlessly took up a mantle of quiet authority.

When had Remus become such a grown-up?

Not that he, Sirius, wasn't also a grown-up, more or less, despite having spent most of his adulthood behind the twisted bars of Azkaban. But it hadn't escaped Sirius' notice how it was Remus the kids turned to with their questions big and small, or how Molly leaned on him during the chaotic holidays without her husband. Or how other members of the Order sometimes dropped by the house specifically to seek Remus' advice, knowing he would always take time for them.

Whatever the task at hand, they could all depend on Remus, with his air of quiet wisdom that was frankly a little Dumbledorish. And Sirius was proud of his old friend: Remus had gone and become precisely the kind of sensible adult they'd always teased him he would be. Yes, they could count on Remus to be right there in the middle of things.

– – – – –

For a person who prided herself on her steady nerves, Tonks felt surprisingly fluttery as she rapped at the front door of Headquarters on Christmas Eve, taking Molly up on an early dinner invitation before heading to her own family for the holidays.

Really, what did it matter that she hadn't seen Remus in over a month and he was sure to be here tonight? Or that the last time she'd seen him, they'd spent half the night asking each other overly personal questions and then come within a breath of kissing, twice? Surely they were both mature enough to act normally in front of the others for the duration of a dinner. And maybe, just maybe, she'd even find an opportunity to –

"Tonks!" Ginny cried, swinging the door open, then clapped a hand over her own mouth and made urgent gestures of reminder in the direction of the portrait, as if it were Tonks who needed reminding. Ginny gave a sheepish grin, and Hermione appeared in the hallway behind her, smiling too.

Tonks grinned back at them as she stepped in out of the swirling snow. She couldn't help enjoying the enthusiasm with which the kids greeted her every time she came by. She supposed they saw her as their only half-way compatriot within the adults of the Order, and Tonks certainly wasn't complaining at the chance to play big sister.

"I'll put your cloak in the dining room," Hermione offered, already reaching out to take it as Tonks shrugged out of her snow-covered cloak.

"Thanks, Hermione." Hermione bustled off and Tonks asked Ginny, "So, what have you lot been doing the last few days?"

"Decorating, decorating, decorating," Ginny declared with a roll of her eyes.

"Oh, but don't forget decorating!" Fred put in, as he and George came pounding down the stairs from somewhere above.

"You'd think Sirius was going for an All-England Most-Christmas-Cheer House Decoration Award," Ron agreed, emerging from the direction of the basement in a sudden burst of gangly limbs, with Harry behind him, also smiling.

"Oh, don't make fun of him," Hermione scolded, re-appearing from the dining room. "He's happy we're here, that's all."

"Not making fun," Ron replied. "'S just the truth."

"We did find time for a few epic snow battles, despite the nonstop house-decorating," George put in, leaning against the banister post. "Have you seen the garden out back? We had no idea it was there till Sirius told us; it's Disillusioned from the outside."

"All kinds of spots to use as blinds and stockpiling points," Fred added, "and we've been developing some really interesting jinxes for snowballs." Ginny's acidic glare was more than enough to tell Tonks who had borne the brunt of the twins' creative experiments this time. "Ah, Ginny, don't be angry. Someone had to be the test Pixie."

"I'll hex you next time, see if I don't," Ginny warned.

"Like to see you _try_..."

And then Remus was there, appearing out of nowhere into the middle of the teenaged bickering in the entryway.

"Wotcher, Remus," Tonks said, fighting back a blush.

"Nice to see you, Dora," he answered, his nod friendly and cautious.

She ducked her head, tongue-tied. Act normally in front of the others, right – how did that go again? She was saved by Molly calling them down to dinner.

Sirius bounded out from somewhere in the back of the house, as the kids filed after Remus down to the kitchen. "Ah, my favourite cousin!" he cried.

"I thought my mother was your favourite," Tonks teased.

"I'm allowed one per generation, didn't you know?"

"Mum says hi, by the way. She said she'd try to come by on Boxing Day."

"Tell her it will be an honour as always to receive her in the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black," Sirius drawled in his best posh voice.

Following Sirius down to the basement, Tonks couldn't fail to see the sprig of mistletoe hanging in the doorway as she passed under it, but she made sure to keep Sirius from noticing her noticing it. Had he deliberately…no…

At the table, she ended up between Ginny and Ron, with Remus across from her and one over. The kids chattered about the holidays, but they avoided any mention of their months at Hogwarts under the iron fist of Dolores Umbridge, and Tonks didn't broach the subject – maybe she really was finally learning tact. Remus kept himself occupied in conversation with Molly.

"Did he _really_ –" Tonks heard George asking Fred, the two of them leaning together, conspiratory as always.

"– was thinking we could empty out these last cupboards," Molly was saying to Sirius and Remus, "with so many of us here and so many free days after Christmas –"

" _Fred_ ," cried Hermione, exasperated, as the twin in question yet again shrank the saltcellar just as she reached for it.

"Oi, Harry," Ron said around a mouthful of mash, "have you heard anything from, you know…"

Hermione whipped back round from her saltcellar mishap to elbow Ron in the ribs, causing him to cough on his potatoes. Harry turned red, but it seemed Tonks was the only one who noticed Ginny's face fall.

 _Well, this is interesting,_ Tonks thought. _There's a girl Harry's interested in at school and Ginny is jealous._ Harry and Ginny wouldn't necessarily have occurred to her as a match, but it made a certain kind of sense: The two shared a number of interests and a hefty amount of history.

Remus caught Tonks' eye just once during the entire meal and by accident at that, as he handed the gravy past her to Ginny. Then he cleared his throat and asked the table at large if anyone wanted more sprouts.

 _So much for acting normal,_ Tonks thought. _It's not like he has to pretend like he's never even met me!_

After many helpings and a delicious pudding, the kids scattered upstairs. Molly made to take the dishes to the corner of the kitchen where an old-fashioned basin stood, but Remus stopped her. "No, Molly, really. Go upstairs, sit down for once. I'll do the washing up."

Molly protested, but when Remus was determined about something, Tonks noted, he tended to prevail. Molly lost the argument and followed Sirius up the stairs.

Tonks was about to go up as well, really she was, but something made her hesitate. Maybe it was the sight of that mistletoe, dangling in the doorway. Or maybe it was just the soothing sound of Remus wandworking his way through a pile of dishes, setting them to scrub and rinse themselves.

So instead of following the others up the stairs, she stood and watched Remus, his shoulders hunched and concentrated as he extended the spell to the cutlery and used a jet of hot air to dry the plates. He was facing away and didn't see her, but that only reminded Tonks more strongly that she never really got to see Remus with his guard down, Remus when he wasn't trying to please everyone.

Her thoughts wandered down a series of different tracks: Remus insisting Molly not do all the work, Remus, always there for anyone who needed a strong shoulder. Remus, gazing up at her for one guileless moment in the silence of a wintry field…

Finished with the washing up, Remus turned and saw her, and froze halfway through drying his hands on a dishtowel. "Oh," he said.

"Hey," Tonks offered, ineloquently.

Remus hesitated a moment, then started across the room towards her. Well, it did happen she was in his way to get to the only exit. "I didn't realise you were still down here."

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you."

What pointless things they were saying. Tonks took a deep breath.

"I just –" she said. "I couldn't help noticing –"

He had crossed the room and reached her now, stopping half a pace away. His face was mostly in shadow, but golden light from the kitchen lamps caught his long lashes. His mouth was pursed in a question. "Noticing?"

"Yeah –" Tonks took one step closer to him and flicked her gaze upward. "You know."

Automatically, he lifted his head, following her gaze to the mistletoe above them, and she closed the distance between them and kissed him, catching his uplifted face on the way back down. Remus seemed not to breathe, not moving in but not pulling away.

Then he swallowed, and she took a half step back. He was meeting her eyes now, but his expression was unreadable.

"So – happy Christmas, Remus," she whispered.

He was still staring at her and it was all Tonks could do not to look away. When Remus finally spoke, his voice was low and hoarse. "Oh, Dora," he said, "You don't want to do that."

Dreamlike, almost in slow motion, he reached up one hand to brush lightly across her cheek. Then he dropped his gaze and skirted gently round her and up the stairs.

Leaving Tonks thinking, _Wait, what? No, seriously, WHAT?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't write it with fitting-into-the-timeline in mind, so I can't say exactly, but this short, festive-holiday-cheer Remus/Tonks story would probably fall somewhere around now: "[Come all you out of – or into – the cold](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1108706)"
> 
> Because clearly "Sirius ships Remus/Tonks" is one of my favorite things to write. :-)


	9. Who You Believe Yourself to Be

 

_This life is a thump-ripe melon  
So sweet and such a mess_

_–_ _Greg Brown, Rexroth's Daughter_

 

 

Sirius padded down the basement stairs on Christmas morning, still blinking back sleep, to find Remus wide awake and pacing the length of the kitchen. Sirius watched him from the doorway. "Knarl in your bonnet?" he asked cheerfully.

Remus started, then dropped into a chair and tried to look nonchalant, but Sirius was having none of that. He perched on the edge of the table and fixed his overly earnest friend with a quizzical stare.

"I think I may have made a mistake," Remus said at last.

"Oh?"

Remus didn't seem to care to elaborate, but Sirius was nothing if not an expert at staring people down. Remus squirmed. Sirius waited.

"Dora kissed me last night," Remus admitted.

Sirius pumped both his fists in the air and whooped so loudly, Remus nearly fell off his chair.

"Sirius! Everyone's still sleeping!"

"I had a bet on with myself," Sirius explained, "that it would happen by Christmas."

"You cannot possibly have made a bet on that," Remus protested.

"I most certainly _did_. And I've had my Galleon on Tonks from the very beginning. She's persistent, that one." He considered Remus. "I know you're always weird about these things and all, Moony, but shouldn't you be, I don't know, pleased?"

"That's where the mistake possibly comes in."

"Aha."

"When Dora kissed me…"

"That's a promising start to any sentence."

"…I may have suggested that perhaps she should not have done so."

"Oh, honestly, Remus. What does that even mean? What did you say to her?"

"I told her that wasn't something she wanted to do. Which is true, Sirius! If she stopped and thought about it, Dora would absolutely see that she'd be better off not even entertaining the idea of getting involved with me. The very thought is absurd."

" _She_ doesn't think it's absurd, clearly. And incidentally, when did you get permission to call her 'Dora'? I've been meaning to ask."

Remus groaned and leaned his head into his hands. "Really not the focus of the conversation here."

"Fine, fine, so my 'call me Tonks, never never never call me by first name or I will hex you' cousin just happened to decide that you and you alone are allowed to call her a cute nickname. No, sure, I can't see any way that would be relevant. And then, last night, she kissed you. See why I'm not exactly spotting a problem in this yet?"

"The problem is that I can't in good conscience do this! I can't do this to her."

"Remus, you're not _doing_ anything to her. Well, that is, unless…"

Remus flapped a hand at him and Sirius relented on the innuendo.

"Look – you like Tonks," he said. "She likes you. You two have been making eyes at each other practically since you met. Seriously, you're the world's biggest idiot about these things. Just take her on a date or something. It doesn't have to be the end of the world."

"A date," Remus said, like it was foreign cultural practice he'd once read about, but never experienced in person.

"Yeah, you know, you go out to dinner or something, talk, make googly eyes at each other. Same stuff you do all the time anyway. Maybe kiss her again at the end, if it goes well."

"I can't take her on a _date_ ," Remus said, still stuck on that one word like a broken Muggle record.

Sirius gave a martyred sigh and flopped into the chair next to Remus, flicking his hair out of his eyes. "Okay, let me spell this out for you. You're a nice guy, everybody likes you, how could they not, but you always do this! You waste every opportunity by refusing to believe any woman could fall in love with you, or that you could allow yourself to try."

"Dora is most certainly not in love with me."

"That's neither here nor there for the moment – she kissed you, didn't she?"

"There was mistletoe involved –"

"And I'm sure you both ended up under it _entirely_ by accident –"

"Besides, how do you know what I 'always' do? For all you know, I've had any number of successful relationships in the last 14 years."

"Because I _know_ you and you haven't changed all that much, even if you did go and get all earnest and professor-y – okay, let's face it, actually you were always earnest and professor-y. But my point being… What was my point?"

"Your point, I believe, was that I always mess things up."

"Oh, yeah," Sirius agreed. "Well, this time, don't do that."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Remus replied dryly.

"My point," Sirius said, finding himself angry about the endless stupidity that was Remus and his love life, "is that if you could drop the whole 'I'm not worthy, no one should ever love me' thing for _two seconds_ , you'd see that there's this great woman right in front of you who really likes you, and that maybe it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world to go ahead and _let her like you_."

Instead of accepting this for the good sense it was, Remus tensed visibly, staring hard at the grain of the wooden table beneath his hands. "There are so many reasons," he said, his voice quiet but clear, "why Dora should never even have looked twice at me. I'm far too old for her, I'm far too poor for her, I'm far too _serious_ for her, frankly – she ought to be with someone young and funny, someone as lively as she is. With me, she would become that Auror with the questionable ties and the werewolf baggage. I'm a destitute Dark creature, Sirius, and that's not something I can ever change about myself."

"What you _are_ ," Sirius said, "is an idiot."

"Yes. Perhaps. But I'm _also_ a destitute Dark creature with whom she can never truly be safe. I can't allow myself to do that to her. And yet I can't seem to walk away." He finally looked up, his eyes anguished. "Tell me I'm wrong somehow."

"You're wrong."

"I'm not, though!" Remus burst out.

"Oh, for Godric's sake!" Sirius slammed his fist on the tabletop and Remus jumped, startled. "Sure, all right, all those things are true, as far as that goes. You're a werewolf, big fucking deal. No – don't say anything," he added, as Remus was clearly about to protest. "I know how awful that is, Moony, seriously, don't you realise I know that better than anyone? But at some point you have to stop using it as an excuse, and let yourself _try_."

Remus took a steadying breath and seemed to force himself to speak calmly. "I could only ever be of harm to her," he said. "And I can't do that to someone I care about."

"Remus," Sirius growled. "You know what you _can't_ do to someone you care about? You can't rudely reject them when they finally get up the courage to show you how they feel, after _months_ of all this unspoken pining and frankly very annoying obtuseness on both your sides. What you _can't_ do is brush her off like she doesn't even matter to you, when she's dared to show you that you matter to her. So take her on a goddamned date, okay?"

Remus looked at Sirius for a long time, seeming surprised at his earnestness. Then, something shifting in his expression, he murmured, "I must be mad even to be thinking about this."

"Then be mad for once!"

"Right, I should remember who I'm talking to. Sirius Black, the man who never takes the logical course of action if offered the choice."

"Just give it a chance, would you?"

Remus was giving him an uncomfortably searching look, so Sirius slapped a jovial smile across his face and leaned forwards.

"The truth of it, Remus, is that I get very little entertainment round here most of the time. If you manage to bollocks up one of the only interesting things to happen in this house for several centuries, I may have to hex you."

"Oh, _well_ , then. If it's necessary for your amusement, of course I'll rearrange my life to suit," Remus said, sounding terribly arch. Sirius noticed, though, that he still hadn't agreed to do what Sirius was telling him to do. And, being Remus, he couldn't help adding, "But do you really think…she could truly have feelings for me in that way?"

"Good gargoyles, Remus. _Yes,_ I think she has 'feelings' for you. Have you not seen the way she's been looking at you for months?"

"Apparently I haven't."

"Well, if you had, you would know what I know."

"Which is…?"

"Are you ready for this secret?"

Remus gave a put-upon sigh at the ceiling. "Yes, all right."

Sirius shuffled his chair closer, so he could lean in close to Remus' ear, clearing his throat importantly at a volume that made Remus shift away from him. "The secret is… _my cousin is sweet on you!_ "

"Oh, honestly, Sirius."

"She fancies you. What are the kids saying these days? She wants to snog you. No, wait, she wants to _pull_ you. In fact, I'd go so far as to say she wants to –"

"Sirius, shush!"

Now Sirius, too, heard footsteps coming down the stairs, but he kept going just to needle Remus. "Don't break my flow, I was just getting going. Where was I? Oh, yeah, she wants to –"

Remus elbowed Sirius less than gracefully as Fred Weasley's head appeared round the doorway from the stairs.

"Merry Christmas and all that," he said, brow wrinkled in worry. "It's just, Mum's upstairs having a right meltdown, something about Percy sending back his jumper. Maybe one of you could…?" And Fred looked at them with the helpless supplication of a 17-year-old boy faced with complex emotions.

"I'll go talk to her," Remus said. "Don't worry about it."

"Brilliant, thanks!" Fred replied and was gone up the stairs in a flash. Remus followed after, once again being the shoulder everyone could lean on.

– – – – –

Remus felt strangely buoyed as he went looking for Molly, then brought her down to the kitchen for a fortifying cup of tea and some comforting words.

He surprised himself with the certainty in his voice as he assured Molly she would be able to mend fences with her son – he, Remus, who knew little of families and nothing of sons, he who would never have a family of his own. But his heart felt strangely large and empathetic today, after that unexpected, tender moment with Tonks under the mistletoe, and the equally unexpected, fierce support from Sirius.

Was Sirius right? Could Remus ever in good conscience allow Tonks to feel something for him, and himself to feel something for Tonks?

He was still asking himself that question as he joined the Weasleys on a visit to St Mungo's. Once he'd seen Arthur, Remus drifted away to allow the family some time together, and directed his steps towards the man who occupied the room's other bed – a newly turned werewolf, as it happened. Remus remembered, viscerally, the pain and fear of that part of his life, and shuddered on this man's behalf.

He'd seen the man watching as they all gathered round Arthur, so he didn't believe for a second that he was suddenly fast asleep, although he kept his eyes firmly shut as Remus approached.

"Happy Christmas," Remus said quietly when he'd arrived at the side of the bed, already a world away from a tirade about Muggle medicine Molly had launched into, which was causing her children to scatter in terror.

The man opened one eye, but only to glower at Remus. "Go away. I don't want visitors."

"You might be interested in this visitor," Remus suggested, "seeing as I'm a werewolf."

"You're not," the man growled. "So leave me alone. That's a cruel joke, if you're having me on."

"I assure you I'm not having you on. You may even have heard of me. There was rather a flap when I got thrown out of teaching at Hogwarts a couple years ago."

He finally had the man's attention, as well as the reluctant gaze of both his eyes. "You're that Lupin fellow."

"Got it in one."

"But you look…normal."

"I like to think so, yes."

Reluctant to engage but unable to master his curiosity, the man was looking him up and down. "When I heard about that, I thought Dumbledore must be raving," he informed Remus. "Having a creature like that at a school with children."

"And what do you think now?"

The man groaned and slumped back against his pillows. "Exactly the same." He glared up at Remus. "It's all over for me. Who's going to want to hire a werewolf? _Nobody_ , that's who."

He was younger than Remus had first thought, barely into his twenties. Perhaps he'd had great career ambitions, and seen them dashed in the space of one night.

"Why would anybody want to be around me?" the man went on, his voice an asperous whine. " _I_ don't even want to be around me."

Remus resisted an urge to say, _Well, no, of course they won't, if all you do is complain that they couldn't possibly want to be,_ but that thought snagged uncomfortably against something Sirius had said: _…_ _if you could drop the whole "_ _I'm not worthy, no one should ever love me" thing…_

 _Is this what I sound like?_ Remus wondered, gazing down at the man in front of him. _Do the concerns that feel so reasonable to me sound this illogical to everyone else?_

To the man in the bed, he said softly, "Some people will do, though. I know how hard it is to imagine now, but you'll find people who truly care about you, who won't abandon you because of what you are. You will meet people, in the course of your life, who are able to see the man behind the monster."

 _And some of them_ , he thought, _will be so persistent in their refusal to see only the monster, that you may begin to wonder whether you might, after all, be the man they believe you to be._

Remus remembered Tonks' lips, gentle and warm against his, and the hopeful question in her eyes.

 _Could I?_ he wondered. _Could I dare?_

– – – – –

Tonks spared a quick glance for her surroundings as she hurried through the crowded bar, on a Muggle side street close to Diagon Alley. _Faux-Muggle chic_ , she decided to term it. _The kind of place that's 100% wizard, but trying to be edgy and cool by looking that little bit Muggle._ It almost had the look of an American diner, with plastic-y seats and Formica tabletops.

On the far side of the room, Tonks spotted her quarry: a young woman with dark blonde hair, an angular nose and eyes that always seemed to be smiling, bent over a book and nursing a Butterbeer – yup, deceptively demure looking and never without a book in hand, that was Ariadne. Tonks darted through the crowd and slid in opposite her in the narrow booth.

"Merlin, Ar, I'm so sorry. I had to work overtime all week to have even a chance of getting tonight off, and then of course, as always, something came up right at the end of my shift today… I did try to be on time, I swear."

The other woman smiled as she looked up from her book. "Oh, come on, it's only been half an hour, I wasn't even worried yet. And there's a reason, you know, that I always bring a book when I'm meeting you."

Tonks groaned. "Sorry…"

Ariadne waved her hands, shushing her. "Oh stop it, stop it, you're married to your job and I forgive you. In fact, if you ever _stop_ ditching everything else for the sake of your work, that's when I'll be worried. Is it very hard on you, having to take an entire evening off just for the silly little reason that it's New Year's Eve?"

"I think I'll survive." Tonks grinned at her old friend. "Hey, where are Bea and Annagret? Late too?"

"Nah, they're coming later. I thought we might want a chance to catch up a bit first, before they get here."

"You didn't tell me that! I didn't realise you'd be waiting here alone –"

"If you apologise again, I'll hex you," Ariadne warned. Then she smiled again. "I thought maybe you could fill me in on what you've been doing. Didn't know if you'd want to talk about it in front of the others."

Before Tonks could say anything, a waiter appeared out of the crowd at her elbow. "What'll it be, sweetheart?" he asked. "Butterbeer like your lovely friend?" He winked, rending Tonks momentarily speechless.

"Yes, she'll start with a Butterbeer," Ariadne replied. The waiter gave them a dashing grin and melted back into the crowd.

"Ariadne… Did he just wink at me?"

"Yes, he did, but he's _gay_ , Tonks, so don't get that panicky look."

"What panicky look? Panicky doesn't even exist in my range of facial expressions."

"You're doing that forehead crease thing, the thing you do when a guy fancies you but you don't fancy him."

"Oh, please, I am not."

"Oh yeah? Quick, tell me how you felt when Dan Bell asked you to that ball seventh year."

"That was completely –"

"See, you're doing it again!"

"Augh, Ar, stop it!"

All she got in response was an unrepentant grin. Ariadne raised her glass. "Cheers, Tonks."

A Butterbeer had just appeared on the table beside Tonks' elbow, sent over via hover charm by the waiter, who smiled and waved from behind the bar.

Tonks gave her friend a rueful look as she raised her bottle to meet Ariadne's. "I'm an open book to you, apparently." They clinked Butterbeers. "Cheers. To an almost new year."

"So, stranger," Ariadne said. "How's you're life?"

"Um. Busy. I'm not even sure when we talked last. I kind of disappeared, didn't I?"

"Aurors keeping you on the go?"

"Well, that and –" Tonks wasn't sure how much she wanted to say in a public place, even if the bar was loud and the chances of being overheard extremely low. "Also…that group I told you about?"

"How is it?" Ariadne leaned forward avidly. Tonks remembered talking Ariadne's ear off over the summer about how Moody had suggested she join a clandestine group Dumbledore was forming to resist Voldemort. In fact, since Ariadne was the only friend Tonks had dared to tell something so confidential, she'd got rather an earful.

"It's…fantastic," Tonks was surprised to hear herself say. "I mean, it's totally frustrating, our hands our tied, there's not really anything we can _do_. But I've met all these incredibly dedicated people, and it just feels good to…try to do something at least. You know?"

"Yeah," Ariadne sighed. "I wish there were more I could do. I were as daring as you."

"Daring or maybe just reckless," Tonks said.

"Still. If there's ever any way I can help you lot – if you ever need help of the boring, bookish kind – you've only got to say the word. You know that, right?"

"Actually…" Tonks gazed over her Butterbeer thoughtfully. Ariadne was a bibliowitch at the Magical Archives, preserving old wizarding texts of the type that made Tonks yawn, but apparently were rather important on the larger scale of things. "Sometimes we do need to research various stuff. There's one bloke in particular Dumbledore seems to trust when it comes to looking up old enchantments and spells. Maybe I'll send him your way if he ever needs more material than what we've got at Headquarters."

"Please do."

"So there you go, you can contribute to the cause after all."

"Simple as that." Ariadne's smile was a little wistful, but then she brightened. "So I have to ask this now, before Annagret arrives and turns it into an all-out interrogation… Blokes in your life? You're hanging out with all these dashing, save-the-world types…"

Tonks chuckled and wondered precisely how Ariadne imagined the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. Probably not as a musty old house once owned by dark wizards, empty most of the time except for one morose ex-convict. "No, no," she said. "No dashing blokes. Not in that sense."

"But you see all those Weasley boys all the time, Bill maybe…?"

Tonks had not forgotten Ariadne's hopeless crush on Bill Weasley, back when he was the handsome, dashing Head Boy and they were lowly, forgettable fifth years. Ariadne had always insisted that it wasn't a crush, it was – "What did you always say about Bill? It wasn't that you _fancied_ him or anything, of course…"

"It was intellectual admiration!" Ariadne protested. "He was a very good Head Boy."

"And a very good-looking one."

Ariadne stuck out her tongue.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to steal him from you. He's…otherwise involved."

Ariadne's eyes went wide. "What! Who? Anyone we know?"

"Nope, this girl from France he met when they had the Triwizard Tournament at Hogwarts last year. It's all sort of secret, though. He doesn't really seem keen to tell the family just yet."

Ariadne ruminated on this. "Well, can't compete with the French, I suppose."

"What about you? Any charming bookworms over at that dusty library of yours?"

"Nope," Ariadne sighed, "Only socially awkward bookworms, unfortunately." Then she straightened up in her seat. Her eyes narrowed. "Wait a minute."

"What?"

"There was something about the way you said that… Whoa! _You've_ got your eye on a 'charming bookworm,' haven't you?"

"What! No!"

"I'm right, I can see it in your face! Ooh, Tonks, who is he?"

"I don't – no, Ariadne, that's ridiculous –" Tonks crumbled in the face of her friend's truly horrifying powers of observation. "Ugh, how do you do that?"

"Oh, I'm so excited for you! Tell me all about him."

"There's nothing to tell."

"Don't evade, Tonks. It's written all over your face."

"No, really, there's nothing to tell. I guess I kind of fancy this bloke, sometimes it seems like he feels the same way, but he always backs off again."

"Somebody in…the organization you're in?"

"Yeah."

Ariadne practically had stars in her eyes. "Oh, that's so romantic, missions and things together."

"Yeah, except for the part about how he's not actually interested in me."

"Oh, don't worry about that, all guys are interested in you, one way or another."

"I…what?"

"That's how it was at school."

"That's completely not true."

"But it is, it's where you got that panicky defence mechanism thing that you demonstrated so aptly before with the cocktail waiter. The guys always wanted something more, but you just wanted to fly round and play Quidditch with them."

Tonks was gaping at her friend. "Is that… is that really how you see me? I don't know how I feel about that."

"It's nothing bad! You're just…really attractive. To blokes."

Tonks opened her mouth, then shut it again.

"So whatever this guy's problem is," Ariadne continued. "Well, I can't imagine what his problem is. But just find out what's holding him back and then, you know, go for it."

"You say it like it's so easy," Tonks grumbled.

"I know, I know, always easier to say from the outside. But tell me about him, what's he like?"

Tonks had never thought about how to describe Remus. Remus just was. "I guess I'd say, sort of quiet but with this wicked sense of humour somewhere underneath. Really clever, really talented at magic, but modest about it. Kind, and dependable. A lot of people rely on him."

"Not your usual type," Ariadne murmured.

"Sort of a damaged past," Tonks mused. "Friends he lost during the war. I think he's afraid to let anyone too close." She paused. "Oh, wow."

"What is it?"

"I never put it in quite like that before. He's afraid to let anyone in. And he's got a lot in his past that makes him think he wouldn't be a good partner, though I happen to think he's wrong about that."

"Well, there you go." Ariadne beamed at her. "Now that you know his problem, you can tackle it."

"Ariaaaaadne! Tonks!"

Tonks looked up to see Annagret's riotous dark curls and Bea's honey-coloured plaits bobbing through the crowd, as Annagret carved a path through the increasingly busy bar with Bea in her wake.

The two of them were an odd pair of opposites, Annagret the poised only child of a pureblood family and Bea the Muggle-born kid who'd had to work twice as hard to figure out things Annagret had known before she'd walked through the front gate of Hogwarts. But they were best friends, always had been.

Tonks wasn't even sure she could truly say she was friends with Annagret and Bea, who tended to form a complete unit on their own anyway. It was more that she didn't dislike them (which was more than she'd been able to say at the time about some of the other girls in her house and year), plus Ariadne was friends with them and Tonks was friends with Ariadne.

So they all still met up now and then, and at some point Tonks had grudgingly admitted to herself that it was kind of nice to have girlfriends to hang out with occasionally, not just tough Aurors several decades her senior.

There were hugs all around, and Annagret and Bea squeezed into the booth with them. "So, Tonks," Annagret launched right in. "Hot guys in your life? I personally think Aurors are absolutely to die for, you know."

"I told you!" Ariadne crowed. "The interrogation!"

"She's already had a few Firewhiskys," Bea shook her head, but couldn't disguise a fond smirk. "And she always seems to get very interested in everyone else's love lives when that happens."

Ariadne cocked her head at Tonks, giving her the opportunity to tell or not tell what she chose, and Tonks realised with a jolt of surprise that there was one major thing she'd forgotten to tell Ariadne about Remus: _He's a werewolf._ She hadn't been deliberately hiding that fact; it simply hadn't occurred to her. And she found she rather liked that idea – that there were a million and one things that sprang to mind first about Remus, and none of them was "werewolf."

To Annagret, she lied by omission. She'd only asked about Aurors, after all, not all men. "Yeah, Aurors are pretty great, but they're all, like, _fifty_. And they tend to be badly scarred."

Annagret sighed in disappointment. Then looked hopeful. "Battle wounds, right?"

"You should be quizzing Ariadne, not me," Tonks suggested. "I hear all the best awkward types hang out at the Archives."

Ariadne leaned over the table and whacked Tonks on the arm. "You just wait, one of these days I'm going to meet someone, right there in the Archives! He'll come looking for that spellbook only I know how to find…"

Tonks grinned at her friend. "Actually, I one hundred per cent believe that will happen to you. How could it not?" She was serious and she wanted to Ariadne to see that. "Everybody who meets you loves you."

Ariadne blushed a little. Annagret, who wasn't entirely paying attention to the conversation anyway, declared, "Let's dance!"

Bea grinned and hauled them all back out of the booth again.

"Drinks!" Ariadne said. "Time for something harder than Butterbeer, don't you think, Tonks?"

Tonks found herself laughing out loud, just at being surrounded by such light-heartedness.

"This is good," she told them. "Really, a night off, just to see friends and not worry about work at all? This is amazing."

"In other words," Annagret concluded, "let's go dance."

– – – – –

An hour or so later, Tonks was deep in the dancing crowd, blissfully letting her brain turn off and her body move to the music – thank Merlin for rock music, where you didn't have to be coordinated anyway. For one evening, at least, maybe there could be no work, no Order, no brewing war, just a young woman out with her friends and having a good time. _Almost a new year,_ Tonks thought, amazed that, as always, it had managed to sneak up while she wasn't paying attention. _I hope it's a good one. Despite everything._

The song changed to an even faster number, the Weird Sisters' "Put a Potion on the Fire."

"Yeah!" Annagret yelled and Bea threw her hands in the air. Tonks grinned at them and channelled all her energy into dancing.

Then from one moment to the next, something changed. Tonks was aware of a commotion by the door to the street, then there was a mighty bang and she saw the waiter who'd served them before thrown back by the force of whatever it was. "Mudblood-lovers beware!" someone screamed. At that, of course, the bar descended into chaos.

Tonks had had her wand out from the moment of the blast, and now she intently scanned the crowd, trying to pick anyone suspicious out of the mass of panicking partygoers. There was nothing to see, just people pressing away from the doorway.

Then Rufus Scrimgeour, of all people, appeared at her elbow. "Ms Tonks, we need you. Now."

Tonks found Ariadne's face in the agitated crowd and raised her shoulders helplessly.

"Go," Ariadne mouthed, eyes wide. "Do what you need to do."

With a quick apology to Annagret and Bea, Tonks followed her boss as he pushed his way towards the door.

She was relieved to see the waiter picking himself up from the floor, shaken but uninjured. By the time Scrimgeour and Tonks reached him, he was giving his statement to Buckle, one of the other most junior members of the Auror division, and the one who'd had the misfortune of being on call on New Year's Eve.

"I came over to close the door, because someone had left it open," the waiter was saying. "There were a couple of guys in dark cloaks standing outside. They shouted at me to get back, then they cast some kind of blasting spell and I was thrown off my feet. That's all I saw. I'm sorry, I wish I could tell you more." He was shaking.

"Did you see their faces?" Scrimgeour wanted to know.

"No, nothing, just hoods."

"Recognise their voices?"

"No, I'm sorry."

"Who shouted 'Mudblood-lovers beware'?"

"I assume it was them, the men in cloaks. I don't know."

"Did you hear whether they Disapparated?"

The man shook his head miserably.

Scrimgeour sighed. "That's fine, son. Why don't you go back inside."

The waiter mumbled his thanks and slipped into the bar, his earlier carefree charm erased.

"This can _not_ keep happening," Scrimgeour murmured to himself. Then, in his usual businesslike tones, "All right, I'll look down this street. Tonks and Buckle, go together and check Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley. I'll meet you there. I highly doubt there's anyone still around, but keep your wits about you."

Both junior Aurors nodded and set off with their wands at the ready, scanning the streets and casting Revealing charms. There was no one there, of course, except partygoers spilling out of a few other bars. Whoever had caused the explosion was long gone. _That's the problem with wizards,_ Tonks thought sourly. _They just disappear. In Muggle crime stories, at least they have to run away or find a getaway car or something._

It was well into the new year by the time they reported back, clutching their cloaks tightly against the cold of Diagon Alley.

"I'll file the report back at the office," Scrimgeour informed them. "You two can go home. Or wherever it is you were planning to go."

Buckle looked uncertain. "I'm supposed to be on call for one more hour…?"

"Don't worry about it," Scrimgeour said. "I'll keep an eye on things. I need to stop by the Ministry anyway."

Buckle nodded his thanks and Disapparated.

Tonks turned to go too, but to her surprise, her boss stopped her with a hand on her arm. "I'm sorry for ruining your night out, Ms Tonks," he said gravely.

"Oh," she replied, nonplussed. "That's all right. It's my job."

Scrimgeour nodded, then Disapparated, presumably to the Ministry to file an entirely uninformative report.

Tonks looked round Diagon Alley, mostly empty, the parties in some of the pubs already winding down. She thought about seeing if Ariadne and the others were still out together somewhere nearby, but didn't really feel like it.

As she gazed down the darkened alley, Tonks couldn't help thinking how far she'd ended up from the girls she'd gone to school with, people who worked normal jobs and then went home from them at night.

Ariadne was certainly right, except Tonks wasn't married to her job so much as to the business of catching Dark wizards. Whether Auror or Order didn't much matter – if there was a battle to be fought, Tonks would be there. She didn't know how she'd ended up like that. Probably inherited it subconsciously from her mother somehow.

Tonks felt a brief pang of regret for her carefree friends, out dancing somewhere in London, but it passed. _This is my life now,_ she thought with some surprise. _Remus and Sirius and everybody in the Order, they're the ones I'm closest to, now. Those are the people who understand best._

She laughed out loud at the surprise of it, then clapped a hand over her mouth as the sound echoed weirdly in the empty street. She drew her cloak round her and spun on the spot, thinking of home for now, but already looking forward to the next time she would visit Grimmauld Place.

– – – – –

"You've missed a number of goings on, here," Remus told her when he answered the door the morning they were to escort the kids back to school. Tonks could definitely feel the whole mistletoe debacle hovering unspoken between them, but at least he was smiling at her.

"There've been some goings on out there too," she told him. "I'll tell you together with the others. Are Molly and Sirius downstairs?"

"And Arthur, too."

"He's back from St Mungo's already? Oh, that's fantastic!"

Remus smiled at her enthusiasm, then reached out to take Tonks' cloak for her, sliding it from her shoulders in an unnecessary but admittedly sweet gesture. Tonks blinked and tried to look unfazed.

They made their way to the kitchen, where Molly was making breakfast, Arthur puttering and Sirius simply glowering at the tabletop.

"Welcome back!" Tonks said to Arthur. "Does this mean I'll be seeing you at the Ministry again soon?"

"Tomorrow, in fact," he beamed. "I feel as well as can be, so no need to sit at home."

Molly tsked, but all she said was, "Have some eggs, Tonks, dear. The children should be down shortly, but you need some breakfast too, before you leave. You too, Remus."

Remus caught Tonks' eye in sly amusement at Molly's mothering and Tonks had to fight not to blush. Remus, actually meeting her eye? What was this about?

She turned instead to Sirius. She could barely imagine how he must be feeling this morning, with his house emptying again and Harry leaving – though the expression on his face might offer some indication. He looked as if a thunderstorm might burst out of his forehead any moment.

"Wotcher, Sirius," Tonks tried.

Sirius grunted.

"He nearly came to blows with Snape last night," Remus informed her. He was gazing at Sirius with a mixture of fondness and exasperation that struck Tonks as somehow familiar. Then it came to her: it was the same look she'd so often seen on Bea's face when it came to Annagret.

"Greasy git," Sirius muttered.

Tonks looked to Remus for explanation.

"Dumbledore wants Severus to give Harry private Occlumency lessons this term. To better protect his mind from…a repeat occurrence."

"But with Snape?" Tonks asked. "Is that really wise?"

"That's what I said," came Sirius' growl.

"I'm not sure either whether it's wise or not," Remus replied evenly. "But there's no way to know until we've tried, is there?"

Again, Sirius' reply was nothing more than an inarticulate grunt.

Remus sighed.

"There've been more attacks," Tonks told them, mainly to change the subject. Arthur looked over at her and Molly too turned from the range, worry wrinkling her brow. "No one's died or anything, thank goodness, but it seems to be on an upswing. Small explosions, things like that. I saw one myself on New Year's Eve. I think they targeted that bar in particular because it's one of these places that's a bit Muggle-influenced."

Arthur shook his head and Molly set plates down in front of them, staying by the table with them so they could all talk quietly together.

Molly glanced towards the door. "It's You-Know-Who behind it, of course, isn't it?"

"I can't imagine it's not," Tonks told her. "They set off some kind of explosion and yelled 'Mudblood-lovers beware' before they Disapparated."

Molly shuddered.

Arthur turned to Tonks. "What does Scrimgeour say?"

"He _doesn't_ say. Scrimgeour doesn't share confidences with his subordinates. But he certainly wants to believe it's just isolated incidents, and I'm sure he likes Fudge's theory, that they're only rallying round Sirius." She cast a small, ironic smile in the direction of the man in question, but he only frowned.

"Do the Aurors talk amongst themselves?" Arthur wanted to know. "Does anyone toss about different theories? Suggest You-Know-Who might be behind it after all?"

"Not yet, at least. I can push a little harder, try to get people into conversation…?"

"No, don't jeopardise your job over it. And don't get yourself in trouble. You're too important to the Order."

Tonks felt inordinately gratified at that.

"I agree," Remus said firmly and again, Tonks could only blink at him in surprise. Their eyes met for a few seconds, then he looked away.

"And to _us_ , of course. Not only for the sake of the Order," Molly put in, frowning at her husband.

Arthur was flustered. "Of course, dear, that's what I meant."

"So, what's the plan for today?" Remus posed the question directly to Tonks, since they seemed for the moment to have lost Molly and Arthur to a wordless discussion. "Moody didn't fill me in on the details."

"Knight Bus," Tonks replied. "I'll be in disguise, so that the presence of an Auror doesn't draw attention." She felt edgy about it already. All the kids were targets, in a sense, and they were being entrusted to her protection. "But I don't think it matters about you. Er, whether you're in disguise or not. I mean, everyone knows you're a friend of the family…?"

She felt she was making a bit of a mess of this, but to her surprise, Remus looked at her with startled eyes. "Friend of the family," he repeated. "Yes, I suppose so."

Molly seemed to have rejoined the conversation and was looking between the two of them with a considering air. Tonks felt herself flush. Yet again.

Returning to their most immediate concern, Molly asked, "They'll be safe today, won't they? On the way to Hogwarts?" Her face was anxious, though she was clearly trying not to show it.

"Frankly, I can't imagine anything happening on the Knight Bus," Tonks assured her. "But we'll keep a very sharp lookout and get them there as fast as we can."

"I know you will, dear," Molly said. "I trust you."

Tonks swallowed hard at that.

"It won't be an easy term for Harry," Molly murmured, as Tonks and Remus started on their breakfasts. Sirius maintained his morose silence, looking as if he wanted to drown himself in his tea.

"Nor for any of them," Remus put in, an uncharacteristically ugly expression on his face. "Dolores Umbridge is quite a piece of work, from everything I've heard."

"Of course," Molly said. "Of course. But I meant…"

"I know," Remus said.

"We'll all be looking out for him." Tonks tried to sound reassuring, but even as she said it, she knew how empty those words were. Voldemort was getting right into Harry's head now, so how were they supposed to protect him there? "And he'll be with Dumbledore," she added lamely.

But that did seem to hearten Molly considerably. "Yes," she said. "Of course. I'm being silly."

Soon the kids were straggling into the kitchen, yawning and inhaling their breakfasts, then there was the usual last-minute mad dash to round up forgotten items.

Molly was nearly tearful as she hugged each of the children, and Tonks saw Harry casting small, sad, worried glances at Sirius. But Sirius did at least seem to have pulled himself together enough to put up a good front for Harry and wish him a proper goodbye.

Tonks quickly transformed her appearance, hardly taking notice of Ginny's impressed and envious gaze, then chivvied them all out and onto the Bus, which arrived promptly when Remus hailed it.

She intimidated (and more or less bribed) the conductor into moving them up the queue, feeling relief wash over her as they pulled into Hogsmeade's familiar streets, deep under snow.

They helped the kids and their trunks off the bus and wished them a good term, letting the Knight Bus go on without them, since the conductor was impatient to continue on and there was no reason Tonks and Remus couldn't simply Apparate back. So they stayed and watched to make sure Harry, Hermione and the Weasleys made it all the way up the long, icy drive to the castle, even once the kids were on the proper side of the school gate, the safe side.

Once they had disappeared from sight, Tonks slumped against one of the boar-topped posts and heaved a sigh. "I was more nervous about that than I was entirely prepared to admit to Molly."

Remus seemed to be suppressing a grin with some difficulty.

"What?" she asked.

"Disguise?" he offered.

"Oh." Tonks quickly transformed back to neutral, a bit embarrassed to have forgotten and left herself middle-aged and tweedy in front of Remus, of all people.

"Ah." Remus was still staring with a greater degree of fascination than seemed necessary. "Is that your natural colour?"

"Oh…yeah." Mousy brown had never been her favourite. "Now you know why I change it every chance I get." She screwed up her face with concentration to do just that.

He held up a hand. "No, wait. I like it that way."

"You like it?"

"Although that's not to say I don't like it the other ways too, of course. I mean…do you know what I mean?"

They were standing rather close to each other, Tonks realised. She thought a little wildly of the things she'd promised herself she was going to finally say to him today, and panicked, and didn't say them. Snow was starting to fall again, very lightly, catching in her eyelashes and in his soft brown hair.

"Do you have anywhere you have to be right now?" she asked instead.

"Well, back at Headquarters eventually…"

"But right, right now? This moment."

"I suppose not. Why…?"

"Come play in the snow with me. Come on, look at it, we don't get this in London." Tonks waved her arm, encompassing all the fields and woods between them and Hogsmeade, blanketed in softly falling white. Remus was regarding her with that expression both he and Sirius always seemed to wear whenever she suggested doing something that would actually be fun. She tugged on his arm and saw his mouth start to twitch. "Come _on_."

Tonks ran into the open field and Remus followed, both of them laughing and stumbling as they reached the deeper drifts. Tonks came to a halt in the middle of the sea of white and spread her arms wide, watching individual snowflakes collect on her mittens and her cloak. When she wasn't looking, Remus threw a snowball.

"Hey!" she yelled.

He laughed and darted away, so she bewitched several more snowballs to pelt after him.

"Okay, truce, truce!" Remus cried, but she only grinned wickedly and kept throwing.

Suddenly there was an invisible shield between the two of them, with some kind of clever reversal charm that made her own snowballs come flying back at her.

"Oh, that's _good_ ," she gasped, as she ducked and enchanted a small whirlwind to swirl up from behind him.

Remus' chuckle was appreciative as he darted out of its way and threw up a wall of snow in front of her, a shower of flakes that flowed up from the ground instead of down.

Tonks cast a powerful warming charm – uncreative, perhaps, but effective. As the snow between them melted, she found a grinning Remus in front of her. "You're good," he said.

"You too," she admitted.

"I think I should be glad we're on the same side."

"Remus," she said and sidestepped the last bits of the melting snow wall, going right up to him so she could put a hand on his arm. "How about this. Let me take you out to dinner. Don't think so hard about it, just…dinner, one time, okay?"

There was a small pause, in which Tonks' heart lived in her throat, then Remus said, "Okay."

"Er…really?"

"Yes, really."

"Just to be clear about this, I'm asking you as, you know, a date. Or whatever."

"I did realise, yes."

"Yeah?"

That smile was all Tonks needed by way of an answer. She couldn't help it – she let out a whoop and went spinning away from him, arms flung out wide, churning up snow.

By the time common sense finally caught up and Tonks stopped spinning, she was a little embarrassed and definitely more than a little dizzy. She looked back at Remus, his cloak covered in white patches from the snowballs she'd thrown, his scarf askew and his cheeks red. He was still smiling.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here I'd like to credit [stereolightning](http://archiveofourown.org/users/phalaenopsis/pseuds/stereolightning) for the phrase "a destitute Dark creature with whom she can never truly be safe," which is plucked straight from her story "[A Conversation That's Not About Dora](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1127086)" (which is in turn a remix of my story "[A Conversation That’s Not About Veela](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1126374)," but let's not get _too_ meta here!) When I was revising this story and looking to consolidate all of the disparate pieces of Remus' can't-be-in-a-relationship angst around one unified theme, that was the phrase I picked to tie it all around. 
> 
> In addition to being a wonderful beta, stereolightning is the author of a whole bunch of terrific R/T stories, and I encourage you to check out her work! 
> 
> And by the way, hey, chapter 9 – yup, we're halfway through! (Well...halfway through Part 1. And halfway through in terms of chapters, but definitely not in terms of word count...)
> 
> And if you want more Remus/Tonks fun adventures and romance... It doesn't quite fit 100% into the timeline of this story, but if you squint you could imagine my R/T Auror-Christmas-Party romp falls somewhere in here: [Ain't Misbehavin'](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5980783/chapters/13744225). (Summary: "It wouldn't be the Auror Christmas party without a mystery to solve, a spot of mischief, and a very well-earned slow dance.")


	10. Everything for the First Time

 

 _Will you kiss me again so I can pretend_  
 _We're kissing for the first time?_  
 _Because when we kissed for the first time_  
 _I was distracted_  
 _I couldn't believe it was true_  
 _That I was truly, really, finally kissing you_  
  
 _–_ _Of Montreal, Let's Do Everything for the First Time Forever_

 

  

Tonks looked lovely. Even lovelier than usual.

They'd agreed to meet in Muggle London, after Remus had haltingly explained that it was sometimes hard to know whether he would be welcome in wizarding establishments, and that Muggle London was simply easier much of the time. "I don't mind," Tonks had said. "We can be Muggles for a night. We'll dress up!"

He hadn't quite realised she'd also meant, well, dress _up_. She was wearing not just Muggle clothes, but nice ones – a dress, a stylish coat, earrings. Long, flowing hair in an entirely normal shade of chestnut. Remus didn't know anything about fashion, and certainly not Muggle fashion, but he knew she looked nice. She also looked endearingly self-conscious about it.

"Before you say anything at all," Tonks warned, "I can't walk properly in these shoes, and I'm going to be tripping and falling all night. By the end of this, you're going to wish I'd go back to being a clumsy but practically clothed witch instead of an impractically dressed Muggle."

"You make a lovely Muggle," he replied, and she actually blushed.

Remus stepped closer and took her arm in his. What a very odd feeling, to be on a date. He hadn't done this in – well, he didn't even really want to think how long.

Tonks laughed and skipped the first few steps as they set off, and her light-heartedness made it easier. "So, where are we going?" he asked.

"It's a surprise," she chirped.

So Remus simply followed. _Brain, turn off_ , he instructed. _Please, for this one evening._

Tonks led him first along Regent's Canal, then down a small side street. "I thought we could go here," she said.

Remus read the sign over the door, "The Magic Hat," and looked to Tonks for an explanation.

"They're not _actually_ magic," she said. "They wouldn't know magic if it came up and bit them. We're the only ones who'll get the joke."

"A lovely choice," he agreed and held the door open for her.

Inside, the place was cosy but simple, almost more of a pub than a restaurant, and Remus sent Tonks a silent thank-you for her choice. She'd probably sensed that he'd feel more at home in a place like this, whereas some fancy fine dining place would have made him jittery, not so much at the prices as the implications.

They selected a booth and sat down on opposite sides of the table. Made small talk. Ordered food and a bottle of wine. Talking to Tonks was so easy, Remus almost forgot to be anxious about it.

"What'd you do before the Order?" she asked, just as their meals arrived. "I mean, directly before?"

He considered the question, then chuckled wryly at himself.

"What's the joke?"

"Before I joined the Order of the Phoenix," he told her, "I was a student at Hogwarts."

"No-o, I meant the Order this time."

"I know what you meant."

She pointed her fork at him. "Explain. You're being deliberately obscure, aren't you?"

"I often think pupil of Hogwarts and member of the Order are the only two jobs I've ever properly held. And they're not even really jobs."

"Remus. Stop being self-effacing and tell me what you actually did for the last couple decades of your life."

"Decades?" he groaned. "Dora, how old, precisely, do you think I am?"

"Oh, sorry, I mean, let's see, the 17 and a half years since you finished Hogwarts?" She batted her eyelashes innocently at him.

"Must you insist on making me feel ancient?"

"You know, you're not going to stop feeling ancient until you stop making such a big deal of it. You want ancient, that's Dumbledore. The man is _seriously_ ancient." She set down her knife and reached over to touch his arm. "You're older than me, okay, I get it. But I've got over it, too. So it doesn't have to matter unless you want it to."

Remus wasn't sure what to say to that, but was saved from having to find a reaction when Tonks dove right back into the previous topic. "So what kind of things have you done? Were you working somewhere else, before Dumbledore called the Order back together this time?"

Remus made a face. "Yeah, I was working in a Muggle library."

"Sounds nice enough."

"I was mostly shelving books. Hadn't even quite worked my way up to the point where I was allowed to check them in and out. Before that, I had work at a Muggle school for a bit, but they found out I didn't have the proper credentials. Basically, you name something a failed academic might do and I've done it. Working in bookshops, copyediting. I even ghostwrote a book once, which was rather diverting. But I've also done my share of waiting tables and grooming post owls."

She contemplated him across the table. "A lot of Muggle jobs, then? That's pretty unusual."

"Muggle employers aren't particularly keen either about how often I'm off sick, but at least they don't tend to pick up on the correlation between the frequency of my sick leave and the timing of the full moon. At this point, if I do apply for a job among wizards, I tell them the truth upfront. Saves me the nastiness that inevitably comes later on."

The intensity of Tonks' gaze was starting to make him uncomfortable. "What is it?" he asked.

"You're really…" She twirled her fork absently as she searched for a fitting word. "You're tough, you know?"

Remus blinked at her. "That's not a word people have generally used to describe me."

She continued the thought. "You've clearly been through a whole lot, for a whole bunch of reasons, but here you are, being the strong shoulder the whole Order relies on. You do know that, don't you? How everyone looks up to you and trusts you? And I know, I know, we must be crazy, right, to trust a werewolf? So it says something about _you_ that we do." She leaned towards him, her gaze piercing. "Do you realise that?"

"No…" His mouth felt dry. "I don't think that I do."

"You should try and start. You're not doing anybody any favours by acting like nobody needs you."

"I –" Remus ran a hand through his hair, baffled. "I'm not sure what to say."

She smiled at him gently. "Also, Remus? You're not a failed academic. I've seen the kinds of tasks Dumbledore sets you, the things he asks you to look up or find or write about for him. You'd have to be pretty much a genius to understand what he's even talking about. I certainly don't."

Remus couldn't think what to say to that either, but already Tonks was leaning back, giving an embarrassed laugh and saying, "Er, yeah, end of lecture. Sorry. Oh, I should just stop talking. Are you done? Should we go for a walk?"

"Sure," Remus managed. Tonks unearthed a small purse from somewhere in her coat – Remus wondered if there had been a slight bit of magical concealment after all, despite her declaration that they would go completely Muggle tonight – and he reached for his wallet as well.

Tonks put a hand out to stop him. "This one's on me."

Remus looked up at her, startled. "No, I can't possibly accept that."

"Why?" she challenged, clearly ready to fight him over it. "Because I'm a woman? Because I'm younger than you?"

"No," he struggled. "Just because…I can't accept that."

"Well, what did you expect? When I said I wanted to take you out to dinner, that's what that means."

"I can't let you do that."

"Look," she said, "You can just pay next time, all right?"

And she'd already summoned the waiter and handed him some Muggle notes before Remus had fully absorbed the implications of what she'd just said.

The night was chilly, but not unbearably so. They turned back towards the canal and Tonks slipped her arm through Remus' again. Despite Tonks' claim that she would stumble in the shoes she was wearing, Remus found she looked unusually graceful tonight, as well appearing older in her Muggle-style dress than she did in her usual T-shirts.

"I feel like I should ask getting-to-know-you questions," Tonks mused as they strolled. "But I know you already. Or, well, do I?"

"Er, what does that mean?"

"Just that you keep things pretty close to your chest, don't you? I wonder if anybody could say they really know you. I'm looking forward to – I mean, if you want – No, no, never mind, I'm being silly again. Forget it, I'll try to ask normal questions. Um, what's your favourite colour?"

"My favourite colour?"

"Yeah. Do you have a favourite?"

"Green, I suppose."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. Why?"

"It just doesn't seem like… Well, I've never seen you wear anything green, for starters."

He laughed. "I didn't realise there was a rule that one's favourite colour must be worn."

"But why green?"

"I suppose it makes me think of springtime, of nature. Fresh starts and new things. And you?"

"Pink, obviously. And purple. Red, sometimes. Well, anything warm and bright. Though not orange, so much…"

They had turned onto the cobblestone way that sloped up to a small footbridge by the lock, passing under the bare, draping branches of a willow tree. Tonks stopped at the middle of the bridge and slipped her arm free of Remus' so she could wriggle her way into a sitting position on the handrail that ran along the bridge.

"Oh, Dora, don't."

"Don't worry, I won't fall," she said. "Here, hold me steady." She reached out and pulled Remus a little closer, so she could rest her hands on his shoulders. "See, no harm done." She smiled.

Remus took a deep breath, then leaned in and kissed her.

How strange. How very, very strange and wonderful.

He cupped one hand against her cheek and pulled back enough so he could look at her. That smile of hers.

"You have no idea –" he began, then broke off. "I can't tell you how long – you can't imagine –"

"Me too, Remus," she whispered. "Since I first met you, I think."

He shook his head, smiling. "That can't possibly be true. I'm certain that the first time you met me, you thought I was some old fuddy-duddy of Moody's."

"Not true at all, but okay, then – since I _second_ met you." She pulled him towards her and kissed him again.

Remus wrapped his arms around Tonks and marvelled at her energy, how alive she was, how absolutely present in this moment. When he pulled back again, he found himself amazed all over again by the sight of her gaze on him, almost shy, but so open and sweet, full of the expectation of good things.

"I think you must be too good to be true," he told her, the words tumbling out unchecked.

Tonks grinned. "Does that mean I get a second date?"

Remus shouldn't have had to hesitate, but he did, just for a moment. This really was stepping over the brink. "Yes," he said.

"Good, because I actually…have to get home pretty soon. I'm sorry. I work tomorrow."

"Let me see you to your door, then, this time." Remus raised one hand to stave off her protests, though he kept the other securely round her waist, since she was still perched on the handrail. "I know, I know, you're more than a match for any dangers the night might throw across your path. But humour me, would you?"

"Okay." Tonks hopped down off the railing and offered him her arm. "Side-Along me there."

"Why…?"

"I want to be sure you remember how to get to my flat," she tossed back with a cheeky smile.

So Remus took her arm and concentrated on the one time he'd been to her building, hoping the recollection would be clear enough, despite his emotional distraction the last time he'd seen Tonks home.

With a pop, they were there, in the alley by her block of flats. "Well done," Tonks smiled, then led him by the hand to her front door. "So," she said.

"So," Remus agreed. The last time he'd been here, he'd been fighting so hard not to let this happen, precisely this. And now he had let it happen after all – what had changed? And was it, truly, the right decision?

Tonks rested one hand against Remus' chest and looked up at him. "I just wanted to say," she started, her voice gone earnest, "it seems like you can't quite figure out if this can work, if it's real, if we can really dare to be serious about it. So I'm going to go right ahead and tell you: Yeah, it is. From my side, at least, yes, I am."

She kissed him one more time, just a light brush of her smiling lips against his, then turned to unlock the building door. "Good night, Remus."

"Good night, Dora. See you soon."

"Definitely."

With one more flash of a grin and a quick wave, Tonks disappeared through the door and up the stairs.

 


	11. A Cautious Distance

 

_Maybe I'm just too young_   
_To keep good love from going wrong_   
  
_–Jeff Buckley, Lover, You Should've Come Over_

  
  
When Tonks opened the door of her flat to a knock a few evenings later, she did so with a sudden sinking sensation that this was going to become a familiar sight: Remus looking penitent on her doorstep.

"I'm sorry," he said, before she'd even got the door all the way open. "I shouldn't have let it go this far. I felt it only right to come and tell you that."

"Wait, what?" Tonks asked, feeling as if she'd missed several steps of a conversation she hadn't known she'd been having. Remus' eyes were a little wild, his hands twisting together in front of him.

"Please forgive me," he said, a hoarse rasp to his voice. "I shouldn't have allowed myself to get involved at all. I ought to know better. But I'd let myself hope… The thing is… I would be a danger to you, Dora, you don't understand the implications, and I really shouldn't have – I let myself be – there's no excuse for it." He was now running both hands through his hair, something Tonks was learning to recognise as a characteristic gesture when he was agitated or unsure of himself.

She leaned back against the doorframe, feeling its sharp edge pressing into her shoulder blade, and crossed her arms in front of her. "Okay, how about you slow down and tell me that again in coherent sentences, please."

"I need to end this. It was wrong of me to start in the first place, and I'm so sorry to be doing this. But better now than later. Or so I hope."

Tonks surveyed Remus, his agitation and his riotously disordered hair. Remus with his anxious eyes and his overdeveloped sense of what he considered to be right and wrong. He looked like he'd had a few sleepless nights over this already.

"Look," she said, "would you at least come inside, before the neighbors start poking their noses out?"

"I shouldn't…"

"Yes, you really should. Come on." She pushed herself off from the doorframe, took Remus by the arm and pulled him into her flat.

Remus barely looked round the small room, just sank dejectedly onto one end of the threadbare sofa that Tonks got bored with every month or so and charmed into a different outrageous colour; right now it was a lurid shade of orange and not at all matching to either of their moods. Tonks perched on the opposite arm of the sofa and tried to give Remus a level look, one that said she was listening to his concerns, but also she wasn't going to give in to any decisions he made when it was so clearly his panic speaking.

Remus spoke first, staring down at his hands clenched together in his lap. "I don't know how to make you understand how harmful it would be for you, being involved with me," he said quietly.

Tonks puffed out a frustrated breath of air. "Do I really have to explain again the part about how putting myself in harm's way is what I do for a living?"

He looked up and met her eyes. There was such depth in Remus' eyes. "That's not the only kind of harm I mean. I'm an outcast, I'm poor, and those things would end up reflecting on you as well. They could easily ruin your life and your career. You've got your whole future in front of you! And that's quite _aside_ from the physical danger I pose, how easily I could end up hurting you at the full moon if I slipped up with my precautions even once."

"Okay, setting aside for the moment the frankly ridiculous supposition that I would ever put myself in a position to be in danger from you in your transformed state… About the rest of it, I _don't care_. I don't care about money and status and all that. How can you not that?"

Remus ploughed on. "When we went out the other night, we went to a Muggle part of the city, because I can't even show my face in many wizarding places. You haven't witnessed it, because we've mostly met within the shelter of the Order, but people can get quite unpleasant when they know what I am. They're frightened, and they act out that fear in unpredictable ways. Sometimes it escalates into aggression or violence. It's a life lived perpetually under attack, and I would never wish that for you."

Despite her frustration with him, Tonks found herself leaning forward in sympathy. "Oh, Remus, " she said. "That's okay. I mean, no, of course it's not okay, not at all. But the fact that you experience that doesn't make me not want to be around _you_. It just makes me want to fight all the more against those people and those prejudices!"

Remus turned more fully towards her end of the sofa, his eyes imploring. "But what you don't understand is that those prejudices would affect you, too. People would treat you differently. No, they _would_ ," he insisted, as Tonks tried to protest. "How would you feel when you got passed over for promotion because your superiors will assume someone who associates with a werewolf can't be trustworthy?"

"That isn't going to happen!"

"Yes, it will. It would." Remus sighed and rubbed one hand across his forehead. "Dora, please, you're making this so difficult."

Now Tonks' temper flared out, and she flung her arms wide in frustration. "No, _you're_ making this difficult! For Merlin's sake, this doesn't have to be complicated. It's not like I'm asking you to give me some commitment for forever. I'm not exactly looking to settle down just yet – kind of busy fighting a war and all that. I wasn't even looking to meet anyone, when I met you! It just happened. But the thing is, I like you. I'd like to get to know you. And seriously, we've only been on _one_ date, isn't that a little soon to give up?"

Remus sighed, a tortured sound. He was staring at the wall opposite, with its peeling wallpaper and hodgepodge of concert posters with gyrating images of wizarding rock musicians, but he didn't seem to see them. "Look, you're young, you're only 22."

Tonks crossed her arms again. "Thank you, yes, I'm aware."

"All I mean to say is, you haven't experienced this kind of thing firsthand yet."

"And I _still_ don't care."

Remus sighed again, sounding so world-weary. "I just – as the older party here, I feel a responsibility to be the one who thinks things through –"

"Oh, please, the 'older party'? What is this, a legal contract?"

"I'm not trying to belittle you –"

"Which is precisely what you're doing –"

"– but you have to see that I'm a danger to you."

"No, I don't see that. I don't see that at all!"

"Then you're either blind or a fool!"

That pulled both of them up short.

Remus straightened up sharply and drew a harsh breath. "I am – so sorry," he said. "I didn't mean that."

Tonks turned on her arm of the sofa and faced Remus full on. "Except that is basically what you think, isn't it? You think I'm too young and stupid to know what's good for me. But you know what? I'm young, but I'm not stupid. I know how to make my own decisions."

Remus' hand had returned to mangling his own hair. "I'm so sorry. Dora, I truly didn't mean that."

"You think I haven't thought this through?" she demanded. The words felt hot as they exploded out of her mouth. "I have. Far more than you seem to think I'm capable of doing. You think I'm just stumbling blindly about, but I've thought about this – about you – from every side, and my decision is that I like you, and I don't care what anybody else thinks about that. Whatever life throws at me because of that, I can handle it. I have to admit, right now you're seriously testing the 'liking' part, but the rest still stands. And you're not going to get me to change my mind."

Remus pressed one palm against his forehead. Every taut angle of his body seemed to scream. "You deserve someone whole."

"Nobody is completely whole."

His voice had dropped to an exhausted rasp. "I don't mean only because of my condition. There are – so many ways in which I am not a whole or wholesome person."

Tonks regarded Remus, the tension in his shoulders and the pain in his eyes, and her anger drained away, suddenly and completely. Remus had spent – how many years of his life this way? Believing himself broken and unworthy of love?

She stood up, went over to his side of the sofa, sat down beside him, and put her arms around him.

Remus sat stiffly in her arms, letting her hold him but keeping himself tightly contained, as if even the slightest movement were forbidden. But Tonks held on, just kept breathing in the soft scent of his jumper, his hair, whatever combination of scents it was that made him so unmistakeably Remus. And slowly, so slowly, he relaxed under her touch, his angry angles turning into something that was still angular, but at least a little less sharp.

Only then did Tonks pull back to look at him, keeping her hands on his shoulders and waiting until he looked up and met her eyes. Remus pursed his lips, but didn't avert his gaze.

"I get it," Tonks said quietly, "You lost everything – all your friends when you were still so young, your family. And you've been living this shattered life for years, and you're only just starting to put the pieces back together. I do understand. Well, no, how could I, I've never been through anything like that. But I understand more than you're giving me credit for. I do realise how hard this is for you, how many obstacles there are. But, Remus, the thing is: I like you anyway. I'd like to date you anyway, if you'd be willing to give it a try."

Remus shook his head, and his voice was even hoarser than before. "I can't let you do that."

"It's not about _letting_ –" Tonks forced herself to break off that line of argument before she started getting angry all over again. She made herself take a long, slow breath, then started again. "I'm capable of making my own decisions. As are you. And it's good that we're talking about this. I'm going to give you space, and I'm certainly not going to force you into anything. But promise me we'll keep talking, okay? Don't shut me out. And please, don't go running away again for weeks on end."

She felt how he shifted uncomfortably beneath her hands. "Erm, yes, sorry about that."

"Can you promise me you won't disappear? That we'll keep talking?"

"We'll keep talking, yes. Because we're – are we friends, at least? Regardless?"

Tonks sighed and dropped her hands into her lap. "I don't know. This stuff's complicated, Remus. It's not something you can just decide with your head."

Hesitantly, Remus reached out and took one of Tonks' hands, holding it gently in both of his own and tracing his thumb along the lines of her palm. His gaze fixed on her hand, he murmured, "How in Merlin's name did you end up so sensible?"

Tonks snorted out a surprised laugh. "You know what, you ought to decide whether I'm sensible or a fool, because I'm not sure it's technically possible to be both."

Startled into meeting her eyes, Remus looked up and said, "I'm sorry. I take that back, I really do."

"I know. I know, I know. " She sighed and squeezed his hand. "It's late. Go home and get some sleep. I'll see you at the meeting next week. And I won't push you. I just want to know that I'll still see you, at least."

"Yes. I want that, too," Remus murmured. He glanced down at her hand, seeming surprised to realise he was still holding it in his. When he looked up again, Tonks felt the spark of desire that leapt between them, the warmth rising in her chest at the awareness of Remus, sitting so close that his leg pressed against hers, holding her hand so warmly, his eyes full of tender things he wasn't allowing himself to say.

Quickly, he placed her hand back in her own lap, setting it down gently but then fairly jumping up from the sofa, suddenly all decisive motion. "I'll…just be going, then," he said.

Tonks looked up at Remus, and she could see that animal panic in his eyes again. She stood, trying to be matter-of-fact, trying not to frighten him any more than he was already frightening himself.

"Good night, Remus," she said, once she'd seen him to the door, doing her best to smile and not let that smile give away her sadness.

"Good night, Dora," Remus said, standing there just outside her door while she stood just inside, his melancholy smile a mirror of her own.

He hesitated, then nodded once and shoved his hands into his pockets. For the moment, there was nothing more to say. Remus offered Tonks another muted smile, then turned and trudged down the corridor, hands still shoved in his pockets, his shoulders slumped in quiet determination.

– – – – –

The next time they saw each other was by chance; Tonks was meeting with Moody in the kitchen at Headquarters and hadn't expected Remus to be home.

"Oh, hello," Remus said.

"Wotcher," Tonks said.

"Morning, Remus," Moody grunted, then directed Tonks' attention back to the list they were compiling of Ministry employees to keep an eye on.

Remus headed back out of the kitchen with such alacrity that even Moody noticed. He raised an eyebrow, the one above his non-magical eye, at Tonks. "Do I want to know?"

"I doubt it," she replied.

"No, probably not," Moody agreed, and they got back to work.

Remus sought Tonks out in the entrance hallway, though, as she was putting on her cloak and scarf. He was polite and kind, asking neutral questions about how her week had been, and this time it was Tonks who skittered out the door before too long, afraid of what she might end up saying if she stayed too long.

But when most of the Order convened for a meeting a week later and Tonks made some small joke, it was Remus who laughed. And she saw how they both noticed that, the small, shared moment as the rest of the conversation continued on around them. Remus pulled a deliberately earnest face for her benefit, acknowledging the oddness of it, but also the oddness of treating it as odd. Tonks had to smile a little too.

A few days later, she finally dropped by again to visit Sirius, since it didn't seem fair that her cousin should suffer just because she was engaged in a weird dance of avoidance with his housemate. Remus joined them in the kitchen for a bit and it felt normal, pleasant even. Still, he managed to disappear just before she left, avoiding any awkward goodbyes.

The next time Tonks went to Grimmauld Place after that, Sirius informed her at the door that Remus was away. It was silly, really, that she should feel a stab of disappointment at that, when just a couple minutes before she'd been fervently hoping not to run into Remus.

"But, wait," Tonks said, confused. The cold air from outside swirled in with her as she stepped into the house. "It's not the full moon yet, is it?"

"No, no," Sirius said, closing the front door behind her and reapplying the locks and charms. "He's just looking into some things for Dumbledore. Though, speaking of full moons and Dumbledore, sounds like he's got big plans for our favourite werewolf this month."

"What do you mean?" Tonks asked, as she followed him down the stairs. "Where's Remus going this time?"

"No idea," Sirius shrugged. "It's better for all involved if the rest of us don't know where he goes."

Tonks gaped at her cousin as they arrived in the kitchen. "But what if something happened to him while he's…wherever he is?"

Sirius smoothly cleared glasses and dirty plates from the table; Tonks thought she saw a Firewhisky bottle disappear, too. The sight of it made her uncomfortably aware that with Harry gone and Remus away, Sirius had no reason to pull himself together.

"Dumbledore knows where to find him, if it comes to that," he answered. Tonks must have been glaring at him, because Sirius threw his hands in the air and said, " _I_ didn't make the rule." He went to put water for tea on, rattling around in the cupboard until he found some loose-leaf Assam. "And by the way, Tonks, can I ask…?"

"No-o."

"No, I can't ask, or no, you're not romantically involved with old Moony?"

She was definitely blushing. How irritating that she could blush on cue when she wanted to, but not _not_ blush when she didn't want to. Tonks sighed and dropped into a chair at the table, resigning herself to the idea that, yes, apparently she was having this conversation with Sirius. "Just, no, I don't have an answer to that question."

"How can you not know? Seems to me it's one of those things where either you are or you aren't."

"Sirius. This is international man of mystery Remus Lupin we're talking about here."

"All right, fair enough."

Sirius set a steaming cup of tea down on the table in front of her and Tonks fiddled with the handle, her need for insight wrestling with the embarrassment of admitting to her cousin just how much she fancied his mate. Ultimately, the need for insight won out. "So, actually, can I ask you…"

"Yes?" Sirius had plopped himself down in the chair across from Tonks, and was giving her an alarmingly avid look.

"And believe me, it's mortifying that we're having this conversation at all, and I sincerely hope that after this we can agree never to speak of it again…" A glint that had been lacking in Sirius' eye of late seemed to be returning as she spoke and left Tonks doubting he would grant that particular request. She plunged on anyway. "Will he ever stop running hot and cold on me?"

Sirius leaned forward across the table, resting his chin on his palm. To Tonks' relief, he didn't laugh. "What exactly did he say?"

"Oh, a bunch of silly, noble stuff about how he thinks he's too dangerous and he wouldn't want to inflict himself on me. Which is a load of Doxy droppings. It's ridiculous, Sirius. You know it is. Was…was he always like this? In the past?"

Sirius snorted, and leaned back in his chair, tipping it onto its back legs. "Tonks, my dear, I can't tell you anything useful about 'the past,' because Remus doesn't have a past, not like you're imagining. He doesn't let people close to him. We Marauders aside, obviously, he's never let someone into his life as much as he's already done with you."

She gaped at him. "That can't possibly be true."

"And even with us, there were limits. There was only so much we were allowed to see."

Tonks shifted her teacup minutely sideways along the tabletop. "He mentioned a girlfriend… During the first Order?"

"Yeah, a woman called Ariel," Sirius said, dismissive. "Nah, wasn't serious."

"It sounded serious when he talked about her."

"Well, but when she left him, he didn't try to do anything about it, did he?"

"That's probably just because he thought she was _right_ to leave him. I can't believe he thinks like that. Lots of women would count themselves _lucky_ to be with him! How does he not know that?"

Sirius smirked across the table at Tonks. "Surely you don't _want_ more competition for yourself?"

"I wouldn't mind if it meant he'd be happy," she shot back.

Sirius continued to fix Tonks with that supercilious smirk until she felt herself starting to blush again. "Er," she said. "I've got it pretty bad, haven't I?"

Sirius just sipped his tea, letting his smug silence answer the question.

"So…how's Harry?" Tonks asked, casting around for a topic of conversation other than herself and her all-too-transparent feelings. But Sirius' face darkened, and Tonks was immediately sorry she'd asked. She picked up her teacup, trying to hide her expression of concern for Sirius behind it.

"He's fine, I suppose," Sirius grunted. "Not as if he tells me anything in his letters, though. Doesn't want to _worry_ me. Probably thinks his reckless godfather will do something stupid."

"Harry doesn't think you're stupid."

"But he does think I'm useless." Sirius' expression was growing more thundrous by the moment.

Tonks set her teacup back down. "That's not true. Sirius, he doesn't think that. Nobody thinks that. Are you even listening to me?" She could see he wasn't. "Staying safe is the most important thing you can do right now," she told him, hating the sanctimonious sound of the words even as they came out of her mouth.

Sirius drummed his fingers on the table in an uneven rhythm and stared past her ear. Gone was their camaraderie; in the space of moments, she'd watched Sirius get lost inside himself again, and Tonks didn't know how to draw him back out.

"The Ministry _will_ clear you," she said a little desperately. "Once everything comes out into the open. They'll give you a real trial, and then you'll be able to go out again. You just have to wait a while longer."

"Not holding my breath, where the Ministry's concerned," Sirius growled, gaze still fixed on the wall behind Tonks' head.

His tone was so strange, such a weird mixture of anger and reckless indifference, it made Tonks shiver.

– – – – –

"I wish you'd do something about Sirius," Tonks said the next time she saw Remus.

"Yes, hello to you too," Remus said, holding open the door to let her into the house. He gave her a smile, though he looked tired. Tonks knew it was only a day until the full moon. That was something she couldn't help but be aware of, now.

She glanced around the entrance hallway. "Is he around? Can I talk about him behind his back, or is he going to pop out from some corner and scare me to death?"

"He's upstairs somewhere," Remus said, the corners of his eyes wrinkling with amusement at her phrasing. "And I doubt he's coming down anytime soon, so I suppose you can talk about him behind his back to your heart's content. Would you like to come downstairs?"

Tonks shook her head. "No, thanks. I can't stay long. Kingsley just asked me to drop some things off." She pulled a tightly rolled sheaf of parchment from the inner pocket of her cloak. "I assume you'll know what to do with these. Kingsley did a good job of it too, did the whole bit – bumped into me in the hall, dropped the things he was carrying, somehow his parchment ended up mixed up with mine… I think it's blueprints, and he muttered something about Mad-Eye and Emmeline."

"I'll see to it that these get to them."

"Thanks," Tonks said, pressing the scroll into his hands. "Anyway, can you do something about Sirius? Try to talk some sense into him, remind him that lying low here may be boring, but it's still the right thing for him to do right now?"

Remus chuckled, but it wasn't a particularly merry sound. "I wish I could tell you I'd ever been able to convince Sirius of anything."

"Oh, come on, you can get through to him if anyone can. Weren't you always the one who could talk him out of doing truly stupid things?"

"That, unfortunately, was James."

"James? Really?"

"Each of them was pretty much the only one who ever had a chance of talking the other out of anything. If Sirius thought something was uncool, James considered that the definitive word. And if James was actually willing to declare something too far out or dangerous, Sirius knew to listen to him. I can't say my word ever carried much weight compared to that."

Tonks rolled her eyes. "Oh, stop being so modest."

"It's the truth. Sirius was the one who could rein James in, and James was the check Sirius needed to keep from going off rails entirely."

That was an uncomfortable thought. "So, do you think he's…okay, now? Without someone like James to keep him in check?"

Remus seemed to be trying not to let his face give away his concern. "I couldn't honestly tell you. Keep bringing Andromeda to visit him, though. I think it does him good."

Unable to stop herself, Tonks burst out, "Remus, where are you going this full moon?"

There, she'd caught it: There was a flicker of worry behind his eyes, though the rest of his face remained impassive. "I'm sorry," he said. "It's better if you don't know."

"Please. I'm going to be worrying about you otherwise."

"Dora, it's dangerous information. I wouldn't want anyone to think they had a chance of getting it out of you."

" _Re_ -mus."

"Dora."

They stared at each other a beat too long, and Tonks felt that warmth flaring up between them again, that connection they kept trying to pretend wasn't there. Remus glanced away.

"Please, don't worry about me," he said softly. "I'm an old hand at this."

Tonks squeezed her arms around herself, to keep from reaching out to him. "What if something happens to you? While you're out wherever, whatever-ing?"

"Then Dumbledore will find me," Remus said. When Tonks let out an impatient puff of air, he added, "I know Dumbledore doesn't always show his full hand, but he's watching out for us. I trust him to know where he's sending me and not to ask too much."

Tonks rocked impatiently back onto her heels. "Huh. Wish I could say the same."

"Well, trust me, then. Trust me when I say I know what I'm doing. Can you accept that?"

He met her eyes earnestly, and Tonks sighed. "Please send me an owl as soon as you're back, okay? Will you do that, at least?"

Remus nodded. "I will."

"Okay." Impulsively, she reached out and took his hand. He started a little with surprise, but didn't pull away. "Be safe, Remus," she said. "Take care of yourself. I know you know, but I'm telling you anyway. Don't do anything crazy."

She squeezed his hand in hers and kissed his cheek. Then, embarrassed again, Tonks mumbled her goodbyes and fled back out the door.

 


	12. Healing Wounds

 

 _Some folks sell their bodies for ten bob a go_  
 _Politicians go pawning their souls_  
 _Which doesn't make me look too bad, don't you know_  
 _Me, with my heart full of holes_  
  
– _Mark Knopfler,_ _Heart Full of Holes_

 

 _How many times,_ Remus wondered fuzzily, as he stared out at the dark countryside flying past the window of yet another overnight train, trying to hold onto his concentration long enough to get himself back to England in one piece.

How many times had he been on missions like this, how many times would he again, meeting werewolves when the moon was full and other unsavoury characters when it wasn't, being one of Dumbledore's many pairs of eyes and ears out there on the ground, trying to turn the tide of something that felt so far beyond his control? How many times would he come back worse for the wear but with nothing to show?

 _Many,_ Remus murmured to himself _._ Because there were those rare times when he did learn something useful, or made a contact who might later prove necessary, and those small successes were too important for him to ever consider giving up. Each one was a tiny bit of recompense to James and Lily; each was a little bit of reassurance he could offer Harry and Sirius and now Tonks, Dumbledore and the rest of the Order, people he cared about too much not to fight for them. Caring too much, maybe that was the root of his problem…

 _Focus,_ Remus reminded himself. He couldn't go slipping into unconsciousness now. Who knew where he might end up.

What had he been thinking about? Missions, right, the importance of missions for the Order. Remus would no sooner stop those than he would give up breathing. And breathing was a funny thing, really, a thing that didn't seem to be working for him quite right at the moment, but his head was pounding too much to think about it properly.

 _Get to England,_ Remus repeated to himself, _then Apparate home. Get to England, then Apparate home._

Stumbling out at St Pancras, clutching the travelling case he'd somehow managed to hang onto the entire trip, Remus slunk into a dim corner and checked one more time that no one was watching, then turned on the spot, trying to concentrate on getting back home safely, and found himself…in front of the door to Tonks' flat.

 _Well, that's not right,_ Remus thought. He reeled for a moment, confused about how it had happened, though he was perfectly clear as to where he was.

He considered trying the whole Apparation bit over again, decided he definitely should do so, then didn't do it.

Outside, the sun was rising; Tonks would be getting up for work soon anyway, if she hadn't already. Remus took a deep breath, or what passed for one with the current state of his ribs, and rapped at the door.

He heard someone stumbling towards the door, then the welcome sound of Tonks' voice asking, "Yes? Who is it?"

"It's Remus," he answered, smiling despite himself to know she was just on the other side of that door. "But don't you dare open up until you've asked me a security question. You don't know where I've been and who might have tortured me for information or followed me back."

He could practically hear her rolling her eyes. "The proof you're really Remus is your overblown capacity for worry."

"Dora –"

"I know, I know, I'm trying to think of something, hang on. Okay, got it. What _terribly_ embarrassingly childish game did the two of us once play and in what part of England?"

Remus grinned despite his pounding head and steadied himself with a hand against the door. "Truth or Dare. Sussex."

"Well played, sir, congratulations." He heard her murmur an unlocking spell at the same time as she dropped the Muggle security chain, then slid back a bolt lock. The door swung open and Remus, not ready for the change in his equilibrium, tumbled in, half-falling into Tonks’ arms. The amusement on her face vanished. "Oh, Merlin, Remus, what have they done to you?"

"Nothing that can't be mended," he muttered, as Tonks steered him into her kitchen and parked him on a chair. Remus let his eyes drift shut as her hands moved over him, gentle but sure, checking for injuries. Now he understood why he'd ended up here when he'd thought of being safe…

"Remus. Stay with me." Tonks’ tone was sharp, the fear in her voice snapping him back awake. He opened his eyes and peered up at her.

"Not as bad as it looks," he assured her.

Tonks pursed her lips. "I beg to differ. You need the hospital."

Remus shook his head. "No. Because they’ll ask questions, and I’ll have to explain where I've been, and that would compromise Order security."

Tonks was fixing him with the special glare she reserved for situations in which she felt she should be getting her way, but wasn't.

"Dora, a trained Healer knows how to recognise werewolf scratches."

"Yeah, well, I’m still not going to let you deny yourself medical attention just because of that!" She turned away anxiously, but he reached out and grabbed her hand.

"I'll go to St Mungo's if it turns out it's necessary, I promise. But I'm not going to expire over the course of one day and mostly I just need to rest. Let me wait until tonight, then if you insist, you can take me wherever you see fit. All right?"

She was still glaring. "I suppose you want me to do some amateur Healing and consider that a substitute for the real thing?"

Remus offered her a weak grin. "It’s just that you're so good at it…"

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr Lupin." But Tonks sighed and came and knelt in front of him. "You've got some bad lacerations, and a couple of broken ribs wouldn't surprise me." She peered into his eyes. "Did you hit your head, too?"

"Possibly. I don't remember everything."

"When you're in better shape, I'm making you tell me how this happened. You're not getting around it this time."

"That's fair enough."

Tonks looked surprised, but said nothing more as she went to get the small healing kit he knew she was required to carry on Auror missions. She came back and knelt in front of him again, daubing some sort of salve on his face and shoulders. Next, she shook a small vial and pulled out the stopper.

"Skele-Gro," Tonks said. "It tastes foul, but it just might do the trick for your ribs, if they're only fractured. Open up."

Remus opened his mouth obediently and tried to swallow the potion she gave him without shuddering. It wasn't the first time he'd broken bones as an occupational hazard of being a werewolf, and it surely wouldn’t be the last.

He opened his eyes again to find Tonks gazing at him, her eyebrows pulled together in consternation.

He shook his head in response to that look. "Please don't worry so much about me. I've had far worse."

Tonks stood up reluctantly, then placed everything back into her healing kit and set it aside. "I have to get to work. Any later and they'll start wondering about me. But you can rest here. And I'll try to get back early if I can." She paused and fixed him with another sharp stare. "Don't go _anywhere_ , you hear me? Just sleep until I get back."

Remus laughed weakly, a shallow version of the real thing. He could feel his ribcage burning from the Skele-Gro, which was hopefully a good sign. "Do I look like I want to go somewhere?"

"With you, you never know. Here, can you stand up?"

Tonks put an arm around him and gently hoisted him to a standing position. She led him to her bedroom and helped him lie down on the bed, then smoothed the covers over him. Remus was embarrassed and grateful and a host of other emotions he was too tired to examine fully at the moment.

"Dora," he said, as she started towards the door. Tonks paused and looked back. "Thank you."

She cocked her head at him. "You stay put until I get back, or your werewolf buddies will be nothing compared to my wrath."

He smiled, hoping she could see it in the darkened room. "Don't I know it."

"Sleep well, Remus."

Then she was gone from the room, and Remus tried to stay awake long enough to hear her leave the flat, but wasn't entirely sure if he did.

– – – – –

It was dark when Remus awoke. Dusk? Dawn? He had no idea. But he had a foggy recollection that if he moved it would probably hurt, so he didn't.

He was in…a room. A bedroom. The curtains were drawn, which went some of the way towards explaining the dark. The bed was soft and warm, but unfamiliar. He was not at Grimmauld Place, he was fairly sure, unless the house had even more rooms than he knew about.

Very cautiously, Remus began to take stock of his physical condition. Head not pounding – good. He inhaled carefully – his ribs seemed okay. As he exhaled again, Remus became aware of something strange.

There was a hand on his chest.

It was a small, warm hand, slid up under the fabric of his shirt and resting directly against his skin. And if there was a hand on his chest, then there must also be – Remus turned his head fast enough to make it hurt after all.

Yes, Tonks was lying next to him, asleep. Remus' brain, much abused over the past few days, scrambled to make sense of this fact.

He hadn't slept with Nymphadora Tonks and _forgotten_ , had he? Surely he would remember something so important?

The form beside him stirred and the hand on his chest shifted. Tonks opened her eyes and looked at Remus, blinking as she came more fully awake. "Wotcher," she murmured, voice still muted with sleep. She blinked a few more times.

Remus' voice came out in a croak. "Hello, Dora."

Tonks propped herself up on her other elbow and regarded him. "You looked so peaceful there when I got back, I thought I'd join you. I must have dozed off. Did you sleep all day?" Then, correctly interpreting his uncertain expression, she added, "It's evening. I managed to get off work a little bit early, but it must be six by now at least."

Remus nodded slowly, testing the motion. "Then yes. I don't think I woke once."

"Good, I'm glad to hear it. How do you feel?"

"Better. Well, I suppose I won't know for sure until I try standing up."

"Don't," she said. "I mean, you don't have to get up yet."

They both seemed to become aware again at the same moment of her hand on his chest. "Sorry," Tonks mumbled and he thought he saw her blush in the dim light as she began to pull away.

"No, wait," Remus said, digging one of his arms out from the tangle of blankets to find and catch her hand as it retreated. He shifted to face her, as well as he could. "Thank you for looking after me. Especially since I shouldn't really have come here at all. I, er, I did _mean_ to go to Headquarters."

Tonks laughed at that. "I'm glad you came here instead. Can I take it as a sign you haven't ruled me out entirely after all?"

Remus swallowed. "It's not like that. It's not a matter of…not wanting it. If I'm pulling away, it's to try to protect you."

"Which is silly, you know." She slid a little closer and reached out with the hand that wasn't already in his to gently tap his nose. "Silly Remus."

 _Well._ Before he could have a chance to think about it too hard, Remus simply pulled Tonks to him, closed his eyes and gave himself over, let himself press his lips to hers. Her hand squeezed his, then slid up his arm. "How bad are your injuries?" she whispered. "Is this okay?"

He smiled against her cheek. "Everything superb."

Tonks gave a small snort. "Why am I disinclined to believe you?" She sat up and reached both hands around him to gently pull his shirt off, and Remus couldn't help feeling just a little consternation that she did this very much as the disinterested Healer. She fumbled for her wand and lit a candle by the bed, then bent to inspect him again, running her hands over his cuts and feeling his ribs.

"Well," she said, once she’d done so. "You do seem to heal remarkably fast. Take a deep breath." She kept her hands on his ribs as he did so. "Hm, okay. Now look into my eyes." That was an order Remus had no trouble following. Her eyes, though subject to change, were a very deep brown at the moment. "Yeah, seems okay," Tonks said, peering critically at him.

"Does this mean you're not dragging me off to St Mungo's after all?" Remus asked.

Tonks hesitated. "It seems irresponsible, after I saw how you looked this morning."

"But now that you've seen how I look this evening?"

She sighed. "I'm going to be keeping a close eye on you, okay? And don't go running off on any more errands for Dumbledore until you're well and truly healed."

"Whatever you say," Remus promised, and meant it.

Tonks pulled the covers up around his bare shoulders, then slid down under the blanket again herself. Her hand returned to his chest.

"So," she said. "Tell me the story. What happened?"

Remus turned to face her again, trying to pull his focus together despite the delightful distraction of being in such physical proximity. "It's not that exciting a story, when all's said and done," he said. "Doesn't really live up to all the secrecy."

"But still. Please. You said you'd tell me."

"That's true. I did." Remus found his hands fidgeting together, wanting to touch her, but not sure if he dared. Which was silly, of course, since just moments ago he'd been kissing her. Hesitantly, he reached out and rested one hand on her waist. Tonks obligingly shifted closer.

"I'd found out about a major gathering of werewolves," Remus said, pitching his voice softer now that they were so close together. "Which, as you know, is not so uncommon. But this time I had found out that there would be someone there specifically with the intention of recruiting. For the Death Eaters."

"Who was it?"  
  
"Fenrir Greyback."

"Oh, Remus. And he knows who you are, and that you're close to Dumbledore, and he'd know you certainly weren't there because you were looking to join him. Why did you go?"

"It was important to find out what the Death Eaters are telling the werewolves. What they're offering them. I’ve been cautious, on the whole, about approaching gatherings that involve the British werewolf packs, because once they figure out who I am it can mean a bridge that is burned for good. But this was too important to pass up. Dumbledore and I agreed I would go, keep a low profile, learn as much as I could, but get out before it got dangerous."

Tonks’ hand skated gently across his ribs. "You call this getting out before it got dangerous?"

"It could have been far worse. Greyback himself never even saw me. It was only a small group of them, members of his pack, who figured out more or less what I was."

"That you were a spy."

"Well, that I was a little too tame to run with their crowd, at least."

Tonks shook her head. "And you got out of that with just a couple of cracked ribs. Unbelievable. You're a survivor, Remus." She shivered. "I just wish you'd stop getting yourself into situations that you then have to survive."

"I wish I could promise you that, truly. But I can't."

"I know. If you did, you wouldn't be my Remus."

Surprised by that, he responded without thinking. "Am I your Remus?"

"Do you want to be?"

Remus' mouth went dry. That was the question he could never answer both honestly and safely.

"Oh, quick, quick," Tonks burst out. "Just say what you're feeling for once, stop thinking so much first. You're so terrible about _thinking_ all the time."

Remus didn't quite manage to obey that injunction; he couldn’t help but think, when asked a question so crucial.

What he thought about was how his mind had told him to Apparate home, and his heart had brought him here. He thought about how even with the painfully healing ribs and the dizzy head, there was nowhere he would rather be than right there in that moment, in that bed, next to Nymphadora Tonks. He thought about the gentleness of her hands as she had checked him for injuries that morning, how she had cared for him and worried about him, but trusted him enough to let him make the decision that was right for him.

Remus met Tonks' eyes. "The answer to that would be 'Yes'," he said softly. "If this were purely a question of what I would like, with no need to take into account any other factors related to the true state of the world, then my answer would be yes."

"Just incidentally," Tonks told him, her voice quiet but fierce, "my answer is also yes."

Remus couldn't help reaching one hand up to rest against her lovely cheek. "I know."

"So why are we making this so difficult for ourselves again?"

"Well, for one thing –"

"Remus! Shh. That was a rhetorical question."

Tonks had shifted so she was almost directly above him, with one arm propped on either side of him and her head tilted slightly to the side, with an almost quizzical look. Her eyes on him were intent, and so warm.

"Ah, rhetorical. Sorry." Remus wasn't entirely sure anymore what he was saying, distracted as he was by Tonks' face just inches above his, the candlelight casting her heart-shaped face in warm contrasts and making her eyes shine…

"I sometimes think I need to forbid you from thinking or speaking at all," she whispered, lowering herself down against Remus very gently, mindful of his ribs. "Though where's the fun in that, I suppose." She slid one hand up to his cheek. "Let’s put it this way. Would you like it if I kissed you right now?"

"Yes," Remus gasped, and then he gave up on thinking entirely, as Tonks leaned down and pressed her lips to his.

A short time or perhaps a long time later, Remus surfaced from a beautiful daze long enough to say, "Wait."

To her great credit, there was no exasperation evident on Tonks' face as she pulled back, only concern. "What is it?"

"I just…um."

Tonks laughed her gorgeous, carefree laugh and flopped back down on the bed beside him. "Okay, I take it back about saying you shouldn’t speak. You’re allowed to use actual words."

" _If_ I knew what it was I wanted to say," Remus muttered, discomfited by his own apparent inability to string a sentence together. "I think it's just…too fast?"

"Is that a question?"

Remus reached out and found Tonks’ hand. "No, I – the thing is – nothing has changed about this. I still want this, and I still think it’s not a good or a safe idea. I don’t want to make a decision now and then end up backing out on you again. I very much don’t want to do that. And I'm afraid…that it's all… Well, let's put it this way: I won't embarrass myself by telling you how long it's been since I've done this, but I might possibly be feeling ever so slightly overwhelmed."

Then Tonks was laughing again and pulling him close, her face buried against the side of his neck. "Oh, Remus, I adore you," she murmured into his skin, then pulled back again so she could meet his eyes reassuringly. "I really – I'm sorry, I shouldn't be laughing, you'll think I'm laughing at you, and I'm not. I just really think you're wonderful. And I think you can and should have all the time you need. I mean, of course I'm afraid that if I let you go now you'll disappear again, but I can't prevent that later any better than I can do now, so – you should do what you need to do."

"I won't disappear," Remus told her.

"Yeah, well, we’ll see."

"Truly."

She bit her lip. "Then…you could stay here tonight. It doesn't have to be – you know. Just stay and sleep here."

Remus sighed, and he knew she knew what he was going to say. "I should go back. So Sirius doesn't worry, and so I can check on everything at Headquarters."

"So responsible," Tonks said. Remus had barely opened his mouth before she interjected, "And _don't_ apologise. I've already told you it's something I adore about you." She gave him a playful poke in the arm. "Or were you angling to hear me say it again? Very sly, you!"

"I wasn't!" Remus protested, even as Tonks broke into a wicked grin. Because it seemed as reasonable as any other course of action, he pulled her in and pressed one more kiss to her smiling mouth. "I think you're wonderful too," he whispered against her lips, just a little too cowardly to say it while meeting her eyes. "I hope you don't think that I don't."

A small, startled silence met that confession.

"Okay," he continued quickly. "I should probably go before I make a fool of myself."

"Then let's see if you can stand up," Tonks replied, all business again. "If you can't, I'm not letting you leave."

But he could, and she did, leaning in the doorway of her flat to watch him go, with warmth in her eyes.

"And you can take as much time as you need," Tonks whispered, as Remus slipped out into the hallway, grateful and regretful in equal measure, casting a last glance back.

– – – – –

As it turned out, he didn't need long. Remus was back at Tonks’ door the next evening, taking a deep, steadying breath, because his heart knew what it wanted, even if his mind protested.

Her answering smile when she opened the door was all he really needed to see. He let her take his hand, and when she cocked her head towards her bedroom and quirked a questioning eyebrow, he nodded.

“Well, come on then,” she said, grinning.

“What, just like that?” he asked, keeping his tone teasing to cover up the pounding of his heart. “Don’t you have to seduce me first or some such thing?”

“I dunno, do I?”

Remus looked at her expressive eyes and that warm smile. “No,” he said, voice going hoarse. “No, you really don’t.”

“Then start shedding these layers,” Tonks suggested, reaching up to unclasp his cloak. “That’s the first order of business.”

She brushed her lips against his throat where she’d exposed it by pulling the clasps aside, then reached around to slide the cloak from his shoulders. When she turned to hang it on a peg by the door, Remus was still shivering at the sensation of her lips against his skin.

Returning to him, Tonks said softly, “I’ve got nowhere I need to be tonight. You?”

Remus shook his head.

Tonks smiled. “That’s exactly what I was hoping.” She offered her hand again, and Remus reached out and squeezed it. He let her lead him to her bedroom.

Stopping them just inside the doorway, Tonks pulled out her wand and muttered, “ _Accio_ candles. C’mon, seriously, where did they go? _Accio_.”

Finally, a couple of sturdy-looking candles, deep forest green in colour, emerged from beneath a heap of laundry and flew towards Tonks. She released Remus’ hand to catch them, and set them atop a shelf.

“ _Incendio_ ,” Tonks murmured, then glanced ruefully around the room. “Er, yeah, didn’t expect you to come around again so soon. Probably should have tidied up a bit.” She waved her wand half-heartedly at the pile of clothes, which gave an equally half-hearted flop, before lying still again.

“Dora.” Remus reached out to still her wand hand. “Believe me when I say that as long as you’re here, I could not possibly care less about the surroundings.”

She smiled at him, suddenly looking almost shy. “Yeah?”

“Of course. Although, may I just note: green candles? Candles in my admitted favourite colour, which you just happen to have lying around? Don’t think I didn’t notice that detail.”

Tonks very nearly giggled. “Heh. Yeah. Debated a bit about dark green versus light green, but dark green seemed more…forest-y. Nature-y. Green, like growing things.”

“Lovely,” Remus agreed, but it wasn’t the candles he was looking at.

Tonks lay her her wand down on the shelf next to the candles and met Remus’ gaze. For a moment, they just stood and looked, drinking each other in.

“Hi,” Tonks said softly.

“Hello.”

She reached out her hand to him once again, and Remus took it and pulled her close. She tipped her face up, and he kissed her gently.

“I’m _so glad_ you’re here,” Tonks whispered, eyes closed and face still tilted towards him.

“Dora,” Remus said.

Her eyes flew open, her gaze questioning.

“I just wanted to say that I, er – I can’t make you any promises, here. We’ve been building up to this a long time, I realise, and I’ve no idea what you expect, but I am…hrm. Out of practice, I suppose you could say. I rather suspect tonight may not be all you hope it will be.”

“Remus.” She threaded both arms around him and squeezed, gazing up into his face. “I’ve got no expectations, okay? Totally, totally zero. There’s no goal, nothing I’m expecting to happen and then I’m going to be horribly disappointed in you if it doesn’t. I just want to be with you in whatever ways are nice and fun and not at all overwhelming. As far as I’m concerned, we can just sit here and snog all night.”

His eyes must have glazed over slightly at that thought, because she chuckled.

“Sounds good, huh? C’mere.” Tonks pulled him close and kissed him hard. Before Remus quite knew what was happening, she was nudging him towards the bed, then he was sitting on the edge of it, with Tonks balanced on his knees and grinning at him.

“Hi,” she said again.

“Hello,” he answered.

Stilling himself to gather the necessary force and focus, mindful of his still-healing ribs, Remus grasped Tonks around the waist and in one smooth motion flipped them both, so that she was on her back on the bed and he was sprawled half across her.

Tonks huffed out a surprised breath of laughter, then said, “Oh, hell yes.” She pulled Remus closer and set about snogging him breathless. “Shirt off?” she murmured against his ear.

“Er – yours or mine?”  
  
“Both.” Tonks wriggled, slipping out of her T-shirt, then reached up to undo Remus’ buttons while he was still distracted by the sight of her bare skin.

She slipped his shirt from his shoulders and dropped it gently over the side of the bed. “Still all right?” she asked.

“Very.” Remus’ eyes were embarrassingly stuck on the sight of Tonks in nothing but a bra. A luridly purple bra. His hand hovered above her, almost afraid to touch. “May I?”

“Yes, _please_.”

He lowered his hand, slow and careful, and ran one finger along that tantalising curve, from the delicate line of her collarbone down the swell of her purple-clad breast, stopping to cup it gently in his hand.

Tonks sighed, eyes closing, and arched into his touch. “Or you could just do _that_ all night. I’d be fine with that.”

Remus leaned down to press a gentle kiss to the spot where her bra dipped down between her breasts, revealing the pale skin between.

Suddenly, this didn’t seem so difficult. This wasn’t someone he had to prove something to; this was Tonks. His Dora. It was just as she had said – there was no goal but to be here together.

“Oh, I think we can do a bit better than that,” Remus said, smiling.

Tonks’ eyes snapped open.

His hand found the clasp at the centre of her back. “May I?”

She laughed softly, eyes still wide. “Yes.”

Careful but sure, working one-handed, Remus slipped the hook from the eyelet, and Tonks’ answering grin seemed to him the best thing he’d ever seen.

 


	13. Breakout

 

_Yes, I was young, as young as you are now_   
_And I never learned to ask how_   
_Old do you have to be?_   
_Old do you have to be?_

_–_ _Ginger Redcliff, How Old_

 

Tonks and Remus were woken the next morning by the arrival of Dumbledore's silver phoenix Patronus in the bedroom. Just one Patronus to reach the two of them, which raised some interesting questions about exactly how much Dumbledore knew…or perhaps Patronuses were simply cleverer than anyone realised.

_"Urgent gathering at Headquarters. As soon as you can get there,"_ was all the Patronus said before it was gone again.

Tonks groaned and cracked an eye open in the direction of the window. It was still pitch black outside. She turned to look at Remus beside her – because yes, Remus Lupin was in her bed. That had _happened_. How in the name of all that was good, magical and completely amazing had that happened?

Remus, it turned out, was awake and gazing at her with a grin on his face.

"Good morning," he said, voice still husky and not fully woken. "You're so beautiful."

Tonks ducked her head. "You're clearly addled from too little sleep."

"Also true," Remus agreed gravely. "And yet my point is valid as well."

They looked at each other, and Tonks felt an undignified giggle bubbling up. Remus chuckled too, and then they were both laughing.

"This is the morning after in the Order of the Phoenix, I guess," Tonks said. "Find your trousers and go fight crime."

"Only too gladly, if it's with you," Remus answered.

"Oh, stop it." Tonks tried to hide her giddy smile and gave him a gentle shove. "Go on, get dressed. You heard Dumbledore. He clearly wants this meeting to happen before everyone has to get to work."

Remus – the same Remus who once not so long ago hadn't dared even to set foot inside Tonks' flat – leaned in with lightning speed and kissed her. Tonks yelped in surprise, laughed again, then grabbed him and snogged him back as hard as she could.

Remus. In her bed.

Regretfully, she released him so they could both get up and find their clothing. Tonks had to dig around in the messy piles that littered her room to find something suitable to wear, but Remus, being Remus, had somehow managed to keep all his things neatly collected together by the side of the bed. Tonks noticed he was still moving gingerly, cautious of his ribs, but otherwise he seemed to have recovered from his full moon run-in.

_Speedy werewolf healing,_ she thought. _That's good, at least._

She'd just finished shrugging her way into a shirt when Remus appeared in front of her and caught her hand.

"Thank you," he said.

"For what?"

"For…last night. If that's not too crass a thing to say. Adequate words fail me, but it was…lovely."

Tonks smiled at his earnest expression. "If anything, I should be thanking _you_ , Remus, and I don't mind at all if that's a crass thing to say. Do you realise how long I've been trying to get you into my bed?"

She could have sworn Remus blushed. "Yes. Well," he said.

She cupped both hands around his adorable face and kissed the tip of his adorable nose. "Come on, silly. They're waiting for us."

Indeed, Sirius was waiting at the door when they got to Headquarters, and most of the Order was already assembled in the kitchen. Tonks was surprised at the size of the gathering; Dumbledore really had called in everyone. Most of the company looked grave, though Tonks saw Sirius spare a smirk for her and Remus, as they discreetly took two adjacent seats.

When everyone had arrived, Dumbledore went to stand at the head of the table. "I know many of you need to leave for work soon, so we'll keep this to the point," he said. There was little of the usual twinkle about the Hogwarts headmaster today. "Ten Death Eaters broke out of Azkaban last night," he continued, then proceeded to reel off a list of their names.

A collective gasp went around the room. Tonks felt her hand reach out instinctively to squeeze Remus' leg under the table. He glanced over at her, startled, but found her hand with his and squeezed back.

"This will be in the Daily Prophet this morning," Dumbledore continued, "but we know in advance thanks to Emmeline, who was carrying out a risky patrol tonight." Down the table, Emmeline Vance nodded, serious and self-possessed as always.

"This means the Dementors have broken with the Ministry permanently and now answer to Voldemort," Dumbledore said. "But although that is a serious concern, the most immediate issue is the ten dangerous criminals who are now on the loose, presumably heading to Voldemort's side, if they are not with him already. We must redouble our efforts. We must stand guard over the Department of Mysteries day and night. We must watch Harry any time he sets foot outside the Hogwarts grounds. And we must observe anyone with known connections to these ten individuals. Perhaps not all of the escapees will go completely to ground, and we will be able to catch some sign of their whereabouts. In this, at least, we and the Ministry will be working on the same side."

Dumbledore surveyed the group from over his half-moon glasses. Tonks thought his eyes looked terribly weary. "Who can go to the Ministry today?" he asked. "Who can go to Hogsmeade? How many of you can take the day free from work without raising suspicion? We should try to learn as much as we can now, while these Death Eaters may still be on the move."

An urgent buzz of conversation filled the room, as everyone began discussing who should go where and what information they might be able to glean. Tonks already knew, though, where she could be of most use to the Order: by reporting for work at the Auror Office as always. Besides, one insistent thought was making it hard to focus on anything else.

"Bellatrix," she whispered to Remus, though it was Sirius' eyes she sought across the room. Bellatrix Lestrange, the mad, dangerous aunt Tonks had never met, was one of the ten who had escaped from Azkaban. Tonks' mum almost never talked about her estranged family, but Tonks wasn't stupid. She knew Andromeda had always felt a deep, if guilty, sense of relief at knowing her older sister was safely behind bars. And now Bellatrix had broken free.

Remus squeezed Tonks' hand. They shared a look, his eyes deeply sympathetic, then both went to see where they could be of most use, as others around them began pushing back their chairs and clustering in smaller groups, still discussing what most urgently needed to be done.

Tonks went to Moody, who had pulled out a quill and started sketching out schedules and assignments, to see if she could be of any help; she saw Remus drift towards Sirius on the other side of the room. She lost sight of the two of them for a bit in the crowded kitchen, but when Tonks next looked up, she saw Sirius had pulled Remus aside by the pantry door, and was saying something to him, urgent and low. Not much needed where she was at the moment, Tonks went over to see what had got Sirius in a lather.

"I want you to keep an eye on her," Sirius was saying, sounding almost angry, as Tonks approached. "I'm not allowed to leave this goddamned house, so it's up to you. Bella is bat-shit crazy, you know that."

"You know I'll protect her, Sirius," Remus said.

It took Tonks an embarrassingly long moment to figure out what they were talking about. _Protect her? Who's…oh._

She stormed up to them and laid a hand on each man's shoulder. "I can protect myself, thanks," she snapped.

Remus, at least, had the grace to look embarrassed, but Sirius was unfazed. "Tonks, I know Bellatrix. You don't. I know what she's capable of, and so does Remus. You're in particular danger now, and we're going to be watching out for you whether you like it or not."

Tonks tamped down her annoyance to address a more important question. "What about my mum, Sirius? Is Bellatrix going to go after her?"

Sirius answered nearly before she'd finished. "I don't know. It's impossible to know what twisted priorities she's got. But tell Andromeda to increase their protections at home. Get a Secret-Keeper if necessary. Bellatrix would love to destroy all of you if she could. It's not like she hasn't tried before."

Tonks' knees felt weak and she was vaguely aware of Remus' steadying hand on her arm.

"I have to warn her," she said. "Sirius, tell Moody where I've gone, would you? And then I have to get to work, but that's what he'll assign me to do anyway." She turned to Remus. "And I'll see you…later. Okay?"

Remus nodded, his eyes on her intent and concerned. There was no chance of a goodbye kiss, not in this company, not with all this going on. Tonks settled for squeezing his hand, and hurried out.

Not exactly how she'd thought their first morning together would go. But when was anything ever normal in a war?

– – – – –

Tonks didn't even see Remus again until the end of the week. She did a stint standing watch over the Department of Mysteries between full Auror shifts; he was away for two days somewhere in the south of England, trying to ferret out information for Dumbledore.

She finally caught up with him after a small meeting on Sunday morning – just him, her, Molly, Arthur, Sirius and Moody in the kitchen at Headquarters. Once the meeting had broken up, Tonks followed Remus upstairs while the others were still in the basement.

"Wotcher," she said, grinning and reaching out to rest a hand on his arm. It was the first she'd even got to touch him since that last, chaotic meeting.

He responded with one of those impossibly gentle smiles. "Hello, Dora."

"Am I allowed to give you a warmer greeting?"

Remus' brow furrowed in confusion.

"That means am I allowed to _kiss_ you."

"Oh! Sorry. Of course. I mean –"

"I'll take that as a yes."

When they pulled apart again, Remus looked a little dazed, but he wasn't complaining.

"Would you come to lunch with me?" Tonks asked.

"I'd be delighted to," Remus said. Oh, that smile. She would move mountains wandless for that smile.

"Uh, just so you know, lunch is…with my parents," Tonks admitted. Remus' eyebrows shot up and she rushed to explain. "I haven't had a chance to see them since I dashed by there the other morning, and I'm worried about them, so I already said I'd come over today. But I'd love if you'd come with me."

The look Remus was giving her could only be described as consternation. "I'm not sure that's the best idea."

"You don't have to come as my – uh, my date, or whatever. Just come as a friend."

"Somehow, I think Andromeda's liable to see through that. She always did have an uncannily sharp eye."

"Okay, fair point. But Mum's tactful. She won't say anything."

Remus shook his head ruefully. "I can already tell I'm going to give in to you, aren't I?"

Tonks grinned. "We don't have to stay all that long, anyway. And I have the whole afternoon free, no other duties. So we could spend the afternoon together. If you want. What?" This last was because Remus was gazing at her oddly.

"I just…" he began, looking perplexed. "I've…missed you. In these, what has it been, all of four days?"

Tonks gaped at him, then gave a delighted laugh. "That's good," she admitted. "Because…the same. About you." She grabbed Remus' hand. "Does that mean you'll come?"

"Just let me tell Sirius I'm going out." He turned towards the basement stairs, then hesitated and turned back. "Could we…could we not tell anyone for now? About this?"

She knew what he meant, but couldn't help teasing. "About lunch with my parents?"

"No, no. About us, about this…whatever it is we've started."

Just the fact of Remus acknowledging that there was a whatever-it-was made Tonks quite dangerously inclined to agree to anything he might ask of her. "I'll be ever so discreet," she agreed with a grin.

"Thank you."

As Tonks waited in the entrance hall, she wondered if Remus was actually admitting, in front of Molly and Arthur and Moody, precisely where he was going. Most likely not, but Tonks didn't care. There was a whatever-it-was!

Remus reemerged quickly, and they went out together to what they'd all come to think of as their designated Apparition point, a nondescript alley just along the square from 12 Grimmauld Place that was conveniently out of the sightlines of the other buildings' windows.

From there, Tonks took Remus' hand and Side-Along Apparated him to the stand of trees that was her usual arrival point on the outskirts of the charming – but deathly boring – village where her parents lived. She released his hand and they walked up the path to the front door.

"Dora-dee!" exclaimed Tonks' father, who had an endless supply of nonsensical nicknames and wasn't afraid to use them, when he opened the door to her knock. He swept his daughter into a hug. "You're looking a-Dora-ble as always."

Tonks groaned. "Dad, do you _have_ to make puns in front of friends?" She shooed Remus inside, so she could close the door behind them. "And you shouldn't stand around chatting on the doorstep in times like these, you know better than that!"

"Nice to see you too, sweetheart," Ted said with a smile. "And I see you've brought someone to lunch."

The someone in question extended his hand. "I don't know if you remember me, I'm –"

"Remus. Sirius' only sensible friend. Of course I remember you." Ted looked him up and down. "You've grown up."

Remus coughed. "I suppose so."

Tonks' mother appeared in the entranceway and swept towards them. "Remus! Lovely to see you." She pecked him on both cheeks. "And Nymphadora, so good of you to let us know beforehand that you were bringing a guest."

"Sorry, Mum," Tonks muttered as she was pressed into her mother's strong embrace.

"I'm not actually annoyed, Remus," Andromeda assured their bemused guest. "Come on, come into the dining room. Have a seat."

While her mother, ever the proper hostess, offered Remus a chair, Tonks flung herself into the seat across the table, just barely managing not to knock it over in the process. "It's good to be home," she declared, then, when this statement met with silence, turned to find both her parents staring at her with quizzical expressions.

"Are you feeling all right, Nymphadora?" her mother asked. "Because it seems to me we normally only manage to drag you here kicking and screaming."

Her father chimed in. "And I'm not sure I've heard you refer to this as 'home' since…"

"Since she was eighteen?" suggested her mother.

"More like eleven," her father smiled.

Tonks threw up her hands defensively. "I'm just _worried_ about you, okay? Things are dangerous for you both right now. I want to be sure you're safe."

"Darling," said her mother, "I hate to break this to you, but your father and I have been facing this sort of situation since before you were born."

"Yeah, well, then maybe you're getting soft in your old age," Tonks shot back.

Across the table, Remus' eyes widen slightly. Okay, so he and his parents hadn't been the bantering type. But Tonks probably could have guessed that.

"Dora," said her father, still with a maddeningly unconcerned smile. "Thank you for being concerned. But we're taking all the necessary precautions, I promise you."

"Like standing around talking on the doorstep," Tonks grumbled.

"A doorstep on which we can't be seen or heard by anyone outside, because of powerful protective charms, cast by your mother, that extend for 50 feet in all directions around the house, including above and below, and allow passage only to those specifically named in the charm, or others they bring along with them by both physical contact and deliberate intent. Incidentally, it's a good thing you brought Remus by Side-Along Apparition, or he might have bounced off."

Tonks made a face, chagrined.

"Let's eat," said Andromeda. "Ted, would you get Remus a drink? This one here can fend for herself." She ruffled Tonks' hair (purple and chin-length today) and disappeared into the kitchen.

Andromeda had made Tonks' favourite secret-recipe lasagne, and she kept trying to ply Remus with wine throughout the meal – something of a surprise to Tonks, since her family didn't usually drink much at home, and certainly not at lunch. It gave her the uncomfortable sense there might be an undercurrent of "impressing the potential son-in-law" in the room. Which was really not where she'd meant this to go.

"Mum," she said, as the main course was winding down, "Sirius said something the other day, about Bellatrix having tried before to harm you. What did he mean?" As soon as she'd got the question out, she found herself holding her breath. Questions about her mum's family usually earned a sharp retort followed by a bit of brooding silence. It was a trait, come to think of it, that Tonks' mum shared with Sirius.

Her parents exchanged significant glances. It was her father who spoke. "It was around the time we were married that You-Know-Who came out into the open and started waging war in earnest. And your aunt, as you know, was an active supporter. She came by here, trying to convince your mother that she wanted to mend fences, to be sisters again."

"I hadn't seen her in two years, since I graduated Hogwarts," Tonks' mother added quietly, staring down at her empty plate.

"And your mother was pregnant with you at this point, though her family didn't know that."

Tonks looked from one parent to the other, wondering if she was shortly going to regret making them tell this story. "What happened? What did she do?"

"She tricked me," Andromeda said simply. "She told me it didn't matter if our beliefs were different, that blood was thicker than water and we should be friends. Then, when my guard was down and my wand out of reach, she tried to kill me."

Tonks had the sudden, foolish wish that Remus were sitting closer so she could reach out and hold onto his hand. "And then?"

"We both owe our lives to your father. He came home just in time, as she was pointing her wand at my heart. She ran rather than fight him."

Tonks shivered. "I'm sorry, Mum. I shouldn't have asked."

"It's all right." Her mother shrugged, almost casual. "It's best you know what you're up against. Bellatrix is not only insanely dedicated to her master, she also bears a personal grudge against any member of the family who doesn't agree with her views. I hope you'll remember that when you're in the field."

Andromeda took a sedate sip of her wine, and Tonks was forcefully aware once again of her mother's conflicting feelings about her daughter's chosen career, pride in Tonks' work impossibly tangled up with fear for her safety.

That was the last they said about such Dark topics. Instead, they talked about a spell Remus had discovered in a dusty old tome at Grimmauld Place while doing research for Dumbledore, and her parents told stories from work, and Remus and Andromeda traded embarrassing back-in-the-day anecdotes about Sirius, which Tonks gleefully saved up for future reference.

When Remus briefly left the room after lunch to use the toilet, Andromeda leaned forwards and raised one delicate eyebrow. "Nymphadora?"

" _No_ , Mum. We're just friends."

"Ah. Just friends, and the only man you've ever brought home to lunch."

"Mum, stop it," Tonks moaned, feeling a flush rising to her cheeks. "I'm going to be bright red when he comes back in the room and it's all your fault."

Andromeda smiled and sipped her wine.

– – – – –

After they'd said their goodbyes ("Do stop by again, Remus. It's always lovely to see you," said Andromeda, while Tonks made futile "Cut it out, Mum!" gestures behind Remus' back), Tonks turned to Remus on the path to the street. She didn't touch him, though – her parents were probably watching from the window.

"So, what now?" she asked. The day was crisp and clear, and it felt good to breathe the fresh air. And also to know that the front garden of her parents' house was well protected, even if it didn't look it.

"Well, I'd been thinking… That is, I was hoping, perhaps…"

That adorable hesitance. She flashed him the grin she knew he found distracting. "Come on, out with it, Remus."

"There are some old friends I owe a long-overdue visit. Perhaps you'd be willing to come with me?"

"Sure. Where do they live?"

"…St Mungo's."

– – – – –

Tonks had been to St Mungo's often enough, generally due to various injuries she'd obtained in the line of duty, or to visit other Aurors injured in _their_ line of duty. But she'd never been on the closed ward.

They signed in with the Assistant Healer on duty, who unlocked the door to the long-term residents' ward and ushered them in. Tonks looked around – so far, so familiar. It was simply a hospital ward, with the usual beds and white sheets.

Remus turned to Tonks, frowning. "Are you sure about this?" he asked. "I'm not certain it's fair of me to have made you come along here."

Tonks nudged his side, trying to stay light and reassuring. "I made you come to my parents'. Talk about things that weren't exactly fair."

Remus didn't crack a smile. "This isn't quite the same."

She put a hand on his arm and squeezed. "Yes, I'm sure."

Remus nodded to Tonks, then to the Assistant Healer, who led them along the ward to its very end. There, two people sat on adjacent beds. The Assistant Healer placed two chairs for Tonks and Remus next to the nearest bed, drew a set of curtains around both beds, then withdrew, leaving them alone with the occupants.

Tonks had seen a lot of sad things in her few years as an Auror. She'd seen plenty of injuries and plenty of spell damage, some of it irreversible. She knew the stories behind Moody's magical eye and wooden leg, though she rather wished she didn't. But she thought Alice and Frank Longbottom might have had the saddest spell damage she'd ever seen.

Alice had enormous eyes that made an almost shocking contrast in her pale, wan face, framed by wispy, white hair. Her face retained a certain gentleness, but her eyes were vacant.

Her husband, on the bed next to her, had the look of a man who'd aged too fast. He had clearly once been tall and broad-shouldered, but now he sat slumped on his bed, frail and elderly although he couldn't have been more than forty. He gazed into space, not seeming to have noticed their arrival.

Alice turned to look at Remus, her face somehow expectant and empty at the same time, as if she were waiting for the answer to a question, but would be just as content if the answer never came.

Tonks swallowed. It had been a mistake to come here with Remus, after all. Not because she minded, not because she didn't want to be here, but because she was surely going to make a fool of herself in front of these good, noble and utterly non-present people who were so important to Remus.

They were seated next to Alice's bed – Frank didn't seem to notice or care about their presence – and Remus reached out to take the woman's hands.

"Hi, Alice," he said softly.

Alice smiled a little and made a humming noise. She seemed to enjoy faces, Tonks thought, and she looked interestedly at Remus as he leaned close to her. But there was no spark of recognition in her eyes.

"I'm sorry I don't make it here to see you more often," Remus said. "Especially because I do believe you're still in there somewhere, Alice. I believe that. I don't know if you hear or understand me, but I believe you're still you in there."

Alice cocked her head at him, still expectant.

"Alice, this is Dora," he said, releasing one of Alice's hands from his own so he could indicate Tonks. "She's Andromeda's daughter, Andromeda and Ted. You know them, they weren't in the Order, but they used to help us out sometimes. I think Frank and Ted were pretty friendly, if I remember right. Anyway, Dora's an Auror and she's in the Order now too."

Tonks reached out and shook Alice's hand. "Hi," she said, not sure what else to add. Usually her next words were "You can call me Tonks," but that didn't feel appropriate, given that Alice didn't seem to speak.

"And this is Frank." Remus stood, releasing Alice's hand gently, and went around to the other bed. "He was a bit like a big brother to all of us. To James and Sirius especially, since the three of them were often sent on the same missions."

Remus bent a little, trying to place himself in Frank's line of sight, but the other man was stubbornly oblivious to his presence. Remus reached out a hand towards his shoulder, but Frank twitched away, like a horse flicking its tail at a troublesome fly. Remus pulled back, quickly re-establishing a respectful distance, but Tonks saw the hurt on his face, in the moment before he managed to smooth his features to benign neutrality again.

"Frank was a good guy," he said quietly. "A tough Auror and a gentle soul, which is a rare combination. He always stood up for the little guy." He laughed shortly. "He'd probably be the most devastated of us all if he knew how Peter turned out. He always stuck up for Peter, where Sirius and James could sometimes be a little thoughtless. Frank believed in the underdog."

Remus gave a small shrug, like he was shaking off his disappointment, and came back around to sit down again. Tonks reached over and took his hand. Surely he wouldn't mind that in front of Alice and Frank. Morbid though the thought was, it wasn't like they were going to tell anybody. Remus cast her a brief, sad smile and squeezed back against her fingers.

"And Alice always looked out for us," he continued. "She was one of the few people who thought to look for me after…everything happened. Everyone else was either mourning or celebrating, but Alice came to make sure I was all right. She said it was more important than ever to be strong and stick together. And she believed Voldemort would be back." He turned his gaze to Alice. "That's why the Death Eaters came for you, isn't it? They thought you knew something no one else did."

Alice cocked her head at him and wrinkled her brow. Remus reached for her hand again, still holding Tonks' hand with the other. "It's starting again now," he said softly. "Just like you said it would. But we're fighting. And we're fighting for you, too."

Tonks, who rarely cried, felt a prickling behind her eyes.

"And I told you this last time I visited, but it bears repeating," Remus continued, his eyes still intent on Alice. "I had the pleasure of teaching Neville a couple years ago and he's delightful. Still young and a bit uncertain of himself, but he's going to be just like you."

Alice hummed again and rocked her head back and forth.

Remus gazed at her, his expression sad and kind and loving all at once. "You can be very proud," he said. "Both of you."

When they left the ward, Tonks took Remus' hand in hers again, and they walked like that, hand holding hand, down the long corridors of St Mungo's and out into the pale winter sunlight.

– – – – –

Later that night, stretched out in bed with her head resting on Remus' chest, which was fast becoming one of her favourite places to be, Tonks mumbled, "It's still weird that you knew my mum before you ever knew me."

She felt the rumble of Remus' laugh as he said, "That's more or less what I've been saying all along."

Tonks flipped over, so her chin was resting on him, poking into his stomach.

"Ow," he complained, but didn't move.

"No, I don't mean just because you're older than me," she said. "I mean it's weird that you knew my family specifically."

Remus gazed down at her. "Well, think of it this way. These are the wizards of Britain we're talking about; we're a small community. In a sense, all of us know everyone else. I'm not concerned that you met the Weasley family through Hogwarts before I got to know them through the Order. Or that you knew Kingsley first, from work."

Tonks snorted. "Why would you care that I knew Kingsley?"

"He's a good-looking sort. Perhaps I'd be jealous."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"Oh? Is that so ridiculous?"

"I've only got eyes for one bloke around here, as you very well know."

Remus pulled Tonks up closer to him, so her head rested against his shoulder, but as his arms went around her, she saw his expression cloud.

"Don't," she begged. "Please don't start saying I shouldn't feel that way because you're not good enough or something." She turned and pressed her lips to Remus' cheek, and whispered, "I really like you. So why are you always questioning my judgement, huh?"

Remus' arms around her tightened. Tonks squeezed back.

"Thank you for taking me to meet Alice and Frank," she said. It just slipped out. She hadn't meant to bring up the visit, since Remus hadn't said a word about it since they'd left the hospital. "I mean…" she continued into the silence. "It adds a piece of the puzzle, somehow. Not – I mean – not _just_ for that reason. I'm also glad to have met them for their own sakes. But it shows me more about you, which is – I mean – Oh, for Godric's sake, would you say something, please? I'm babbling horrifically here."

Remus bent his head and pressed the lightest of kisses to Tonks' temple. "Thank you for going there with me. It means a lot to me that you were willing to come."

Tonks smiled, and turned to meet his lips. "Any time, Remus. My pleasure."

 


	14. A Little Hope

   
 _When I awoke today, suddenly nothing happened_  
 _But in my dreams, I slew the dragon_  
  
 _–Colin Hay, Waiting for My Real Life to Begin_

  
Remus started at the cracking of a twig, then relaxed as Tonks' familiar shape emerged out of the gloom.  
  
She squeezed his shoulder when she reached him. "Sorry," she whispered. "Should have seen that twig, I know. Everything okay here?"  
  
He nodded. "And you?"  
  
"Yeah. Just wanted to make sure you were okay. Two more hours, by the way, 'til Emmeline and Hestia take over."  
  
Remus nodded again; Tonks gave him a quick kiss and melted back into the night.  
  
The last couple weeks had been exciting for her (Auror missions, stakeouts, near arrests) and frustrating for him (far too little he could do to help, and he missed Tonks’ company more than he cared to admit when she was so busy, though he would never dream of trying to hold her back from her work). Left alone again with his thoughts, Remus surveyed the quiet, shadowy woods around him. No, they weren't technically on Lucius Malfoy's property, but Malfoy would still have cause to be angry if he were to find them there.  
  
Knowledge, as Dumbledore kept reminding them, was key, and simply knowing who was where and talking to whom could put them a small step ahead. So they watched the individuals most likely to be in contact with the Azkaban escapees, took shifts, wore themselves thin.  
  
Perhaps when Emmeline and Hestia came to take the next surveillance shift, Remus and Tonks would be able to catch a few hours' sleep before the next busy day began.  
  
Quietly and carefully, Remus paced a bit further away from the wall that enclosed the Malfoys' property, far enough back to see over the wall to the lights of the manor. A family like the Malfoys would have all sorts of charms in place to prevent intruders from simply Apparating onto their property, so it wasn't unreasonable to think their visitors might approach from outside the grounds. Then again, it also wasn't particularly reasonable to think they were going to catch any Death Eaters this way. Remus paced closer to the wall again.  
  
Then he heard a sound like a badger chittering a bit further out in the woods and stiffened. Only Tonks, he'd thought fondly when she'd suggested it, would choose that as a warning signal, and he'd chuckled when she'd demonstrated the noise. Now he would rather have heard anything but that.  
  
He ran towards the noise and found Tonks in a small clearing, hooded figures closing in from all directions.  
  
"Remus!" she shouted, face alight. "Back to back with me!"  
  
For one terrible second, Remus froze. What if he didn't remember how to do this? What if he failed her?  
  
Then muscle memory took over. Duelling stance, back to back with their shoulder blades just touching. The same as he'd done countless times with James or Sirius.  
  
The hexes were already flying fast from behind the Death Eaters' masks as they closed into a circle, about five or six of them, though it was hard to say when Remus couldn't see exactly how many were behind him, battling Tonks on the other side of the circle.  
  
Remus parried and dodged, deflecting curses from three of them at once. He could hear Tonks shouting shield charms and counter-curses, her voice fearless, as she kept step with him.  
  
Tonks danced them sideways as a Stunner whooshed past both their ears. Remus blocked a Blasting Curse from the Death Eater directly in front of him, then a Stinging Hex and a Stunning Spell from the other two at once. They didn't seem to be aiming to kill, which was interesting, although not necessarily good. It might well be that they had instructions to bring back anyone they found, to be tortured for information.  
  
Another hex of some kind brushed Remus' shoulder, but there was no time to think about the pain. "Towards those trees," Tonks gasped in his ear. "For a little more cover – on three –"  
  
She counted to three and they barrelled in the direction she'd indicated, still back to back, with well-placed hexes forcing their opponents to retreat out of their way. But even under the relative cover of the stand of trees, the Death Eaters were only a few steps behind them, intensifying their curses and starting to reform their circle.  
  
"It's no good," Tonks yelled over the whizzing and banging. "We're outnumbered. Apparate, follow me –" She grabbed his arm and the last thing Remus saw was a jet of green light shooting past Tonks' head as she dragged him into nothingness.  
  
They landed somewhere cold and dark and mercifully quiet. Remus bent over with his hands on his knees and gasped for breath.  
  
Tonks was muttering furiously somewhere beside him. "Damn it, damn it, _damn_ it," she raged. "We _always_ get that close and then have to give up. Why are they _always_ a step ahead of us? Malfoy must have told them to sweep for intruders, damn it. We have to warn Emmeline and Hestia, I'll send them a message, Dumbledore too –"  
  
He heard the whisper of her Patronus disappearing into the night, and still Remus couldn't bring himself to stand up straight. He was shaking.  
  
"Remus?" came Tonks' voice, and her hand on his arm. The moonless night was so dark, he could barely make out her face in front of him. "Are you okay? You're not hurt, are you?"  
  
He finally stood and looked at her, drinking in what little he could see of her face. "No," he managed. "I'm fine." There was a twinge in his shoulder, but it didn't seem to be anything more than a graze.  
  
Tonks expelled a frustrated sigh. "I hate letting them get away."  
  
"You did the right thing," Remus said, fighting the urge to crush her into his arms. Two against six, had it been? And that last jet of light had been a Killing Curse. _What if –_  
  
Tonks gave a little self-deprecating laugh. "And this was the first place I thought of, where they wouldn't think to look. You know where we are?"  
  
Remus realised the stubbly winter field did seem familiar.  
  
"Dora, I don't think we should be assigned to the same missions anymore," he told her, trying to keep his voice steady. "I just – if something were to happen to you –"  
  
"It's a war, Remus," Tonks answered quietly. "We knew what we were getting into."  
  
"I know." He couldn't seem to express what he meant. "I know, and I'm not telling you not to fight. But I'm afraid – I can't stand to watch – What if I were the one to fail you? To make the one mistake that put you in danger?"  
  
To his surprise, Tonks didn't argue, just nodded brusquely. "That's fine. The last thing I'd want is for you to be distracted in battle because of me. We can tell Dumbledore."  
  
Her matter-of-fact Auror tone was killing him. "Dora," he said, and then he couldn't fight it anymore. He reached out and pulled her to him.  
  
Her arms came around him and squeezed. "Remus. What's the matter?"  
  
"This is all in a day's work for you," he murmured against her cheek. "But having to see you in battle terrifies me more even than I could have imagined."  
  
Tonks hugged him tighter. "Don't worry about me," she whispered fiercely. "I'm a damn good Auror. They're not going to get me."  
  
"I hope that very, very much."  
  
She kissed his throat, the place closest and easiest to reach at the moment. "Come on, let's get out of this field and back to Grimmauld Place. We need to start figuring out what to do now that the Death Eaters are onto our little surveillance plan."  
  
Tonks took his hand and Remus allowed her to lead him in Apparation for the second time that night, wondering and terrified at the emotions pounding in his chest.  
  
– – – – –  
  
The next Monday morning, Remus and Tonks were both in the kitchen at 12 Grimmauld Place – she had stayed the night there for the first time, under cover of the fact that everyone would be turning up early for an Order meeting anyway – when Arthur Weasley stepped in, beaming, a rolled-up magazine in his hand.  
  
Tonks had been leaning companionably against Remus' shoulder as they fried up some eggs for anyone who arrived to the meeting early and hungry, and Remus shot her a subtle warning glance as Arthur came in. He felt a stab of guilt as hurt flashed across her face for just a second before she deftly hid it, stepping away from him and turning to grin at Arthur.  
  
"Wait until you two see this," Arthur cried. "Molly's fit to be tied, but it's enormously brave of him. Look at this."  
  
He lay the magazine on the table and gestured for Tonks to look.  
  
"The Quibbler?" she asked sceptically.  
  
Arthur pointed at the headline, which Remus could read clearly even from his position at the kitchen's old-fashioned range:  
  
 _HARRY POTTER SPEAKS OUT AT LAST_  
  
Remus forgot about the eggs and hurried to join the other two at the table.  
  
"It's brilliant," Arthur declared. "Read it, read it, he tells the whole story, very sober, very believable. This is really going to throw the Ministry for a loop."  
  
Remus dropped into a chair and opened the magazine to Harry's interview. Tonks read over his shoulder, occasionally stepping away to stir the eggs.  
  
Remus looked up when he'd finished reading, and Arthur grinned.  
  
"Never afraid to make waves, is he, our Harry?" Arthur said.  
  
"No," Remus agreed with a touch of pride he couldn't quite keep out of his voice. "He really isn't." He glanced towards Tonks, hoping to share a smile over what they'd just read, but she was busy at the range.  
  
Arthur pulled up a chair and looked at Remus, his expression now sober. "You know things are getting worse at the school, don't you? Umbridge is cracking down – she's desperate for power. Did you two hear she's put Hagrid on probation?"  
  
"What?" Tonks cried indignantly, turning to look at Arthur. "Why Hagrid?"  
  
"Why do you think? He's too close to Dumbledore."  
  
Tonks ground her teeth in frustration. Remus scanned the Quibbler interview again, thinking about Harry and the worsening conditions at Hogwarts. "He'll be in trouble for this," he murmured.  
  
"And he'll have known that full well when he decided to do it," Arthur said. "I told you Molly was upset – she thinks he should be keeping out of trouble, not landing himself in it."  
  
"And what do you think?" Remus asked, realising even as he said it that this was something hardly anyone ever asked Arthur. Molly tended to have enough opinions for both of them.  
  
Arthur gave the question careful consideration. "I think Harry knows what he's doing," he said finally. "This could be a turning point, really turn public opinion back our way." He gave Remus a little commiserating nod, knowing how much of his time Remus spent trying to convince others of their cause, to so little effect. "I think he'll find it was worth it."  
  
Remus nodded. "I hope he does. Especially since I can only imagine what Umbridge will try to do to him when she finds out."  
  
"Think we need to go up there and keep an eye out?" Tonks asked Remus from the range, where she was transferring the eggs to a plate, her earlier pique superseded by concern for Harry.  
  
If he was being honest, there was nothing Remus would like more than swoop into Hogwarts and stand guard over Harry every moment. Or perhaps just take him away and hide him somewhere until the war was over. But that wasn't how this worked.  
  
He sighed. "I think we should trust Dumbledore to let us know if our help is needed."  
  
Tonks sighed too, but nodded and brought the plate to the table, as other members of the Order started to trickle in.  
  
– – – – –  
  
"Do things seem a little different to you?" Tonks asked him a few days later.  
  
Remus had been away. Not a full moon trip – he'd very nearly exhausted all possible werewolf contacts at this point – but the usual reconnaissance for Dumbledore, talking to people in pubs and quiet corners, trying to feel out possible supporters without scaring them off.  
  
He'd agreed to come straight to Tonks' flat when he got back, but now he was wondering if he shouldn't have done so. He hated the idea of a tail following him back here, no matter how much logic told him that was nearly impossible, given the number of times he'd re-Apparated to neutral locations along the way. But 12 Grimmauld Place was at least under a Fidelius Charm and unplottable, while the Order's personal residences weren't.  
  
"Different how?" he asked now. "Different, in that we've finally had two days in a row that weren't overcast? Different, in that the Chudley Cannons had a winning match?"  
  
"You're being silly." Tonks rolled her eyes, nudging him back towards his side of the bed.  
  
"Whose influence is that, I wonder?" He kissed her nose. No, on second thought, he wouldn't have been able to keep from coming here.  
  
Tonks lost any space gain she'd achieved when she'd pushed him towards the other side of the bed by promptly joining him there. "No, I mean, do people seem more receptive? A little more willing to accept what we're saying, Harry's side of the story?"  
  
Remus nodded. "I think you're right. They're still scared, but they're listening." He propped himself up on one elbow, so he could see Tonks better. "Why, are people in the Ministry starting to talk?"  
  
"Mm-hm. Very quietly, of course, because they could get in a lot of trouble. But already I've heard a couple of the Aurors saying Harry could have a point. And that's _Aurors_ , Remus. The Ministry leans on us really hard to toe the line."  
  
He smiled at her eager, earnest face. "I'm glad to hear it."  
  
"It makes me feel like we could still win," she whispered. "When sometimes it's so hard to believe that. That's just like Harry, isn't it, to be giving all of us hope?"  
  
– – – – –  
  
It had been a long day. Remus brushed his cloak dry of outside's dismal drizzle as best he could and hung it up in the hallway. They'd finally got around to installing some coat hooks and tossing out that hideous troll's leg umbrella stand – Tonks' influence on the house, he thought with a smile.  
  
Remus thought he'd go down to the kitchen and see if Sirius was around and up for a cup of tea and a bit of company, though lately Sirius had been retreating into the upper recesses of the house more and more. Just thinking about Sirius’ unhappiness in this house made the weight of the day press a little heavier on Remus' shoulders.  
  
He took his time making his way downstairs, lost in thought, but when he reached the foot of the stairs, Remus stopped short.  
  
Yes, Sirius was in the kitchen. So were Tonks and Molly and Arthur, though perhaps that wasn't so unusual, since they were all frequent visitors to the house.  
  
But Kingsley and Moody were there too, all of them grouped around the table. On which a large, phoenix-shaped cake was ablaze with candles.  
  
They were all looking at Remus. And smiling.  
  
Remus' eyes went first to Tonks, who could barely contain her delight. "Oh, _don't_ tell us you actually forgot what day it is!" she burst out, grinning madly.  
  
Oh. It was the 10th of March.  
  
"I – don't know what to say," Remus said.  
  
As if that were the cue they had been waiting for, everyone in the room burst into a chorus of "Happy Birthday."  
  
Feeling as if he were in a dream, Remus drifted towards the table. The men slapped him on the back, Molly enfolded him in a hug and Tonks gave him a friendly, chaste squeeze on the arm.  
  
"Come on, make a wish," she urged. "And don't look at me, the cake was all Molly, you know I can't bake worth anything."  
  
Remus looked down at the cake, then up at his friends, all watching him expectantly. Even Sirius looked content in this moment.  
  
"Thank you for this," he said to them all.  
  
"Just blow out the candles, old man," Sirius smirked. "No need to get sentimental on us." Sirius always had been able to scent a Remus Earnest Moment coming a mile off.  
  
Remus looked in turn at each of their familiar faces, lit up with joy and love. Then he closed his eyes, took a deep breath and wished very hard for things to stay like this. Just like this.


	15. Things Unsaid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning to sensitive souls: Sirius is a bit foul-mouthed when angry!

_Sweet on me_  
 _Say that you're sweet on me_  
 _And I will fall like an avalanche_  
 _At your feet_  
  
 _–Aly Tadros, Sweet on Me_  
  
  
Tonks felt her mind wandering again and yanked it back to the task at hand. Which was, unfortunately, work of the most boring kind, fact-checking a stack of Auror reports on the continued hunt for the ten escaped Azkaban prisoners. All the reports basically boiled down to the same thing: No progress.  
  
It was the kind of menial task that so often fell to junior Aurors, but in this particular case there was a benefit: It gave Tonks the access she needed to make a secret second copy of each report, to be passed on to the Order of the Phoenix.  
  
That act alone was a breach of Ministry protocol serious enough to lose Tonks her job, and it was a mark of how dire things were that she didn't think twice about doing it. With Voldemort poised to take over and the Ministry determined not to see, she would do what needed to be done.  
  
Tonks shuffled another paper between the "to be checked" and "already checked" piles and allowed herself a small inward sigh. Everything in the documents was accurate, as far as it went, but they were wasting precious Auror hours looking for Death Eaters in pointless places. Tibet, for example, because there'd been that point when Kingsley had been able to make it look as if Sirius had been spotted there, to throw the other Aurors off his trail. And now Kingsley couldn't exactly admit that Sirius had never been in Tibet in the first place without giving away that he'd made the entire thing up.  
  
There were a few bright spots in the general Ministry murk, though. Buckwaite, for example, an Auror about ten years Tonks' senior. He'd recently dropped by her desk unannounced, one afternoon when the office was nearly deserted, and pulled up a chair.  
  
"Does seem hard to believe, doesn't it, that ten hardened criminals would stay stuck in Azkaban all these years, only to decide they're suddenly in a hurry to rally around Sirius Black?" he asked as soon as he was seated. Tonks had always appreciated Buckwaite's no-nonsense approach.  
  
She nodded cautiously, twiddling her quill in her hand and letting him do the talking. It seemed absurd to be so careful, but these days you never knew who was saying what they actually thought, and who had been sent to keep an ear out for the foolishly paranoid Fudge.  
  
Leaning forwards on his borrowed chair, Buckwaite continued, "Black is as bad as they come, for sure, but he's not…well, he's not You Know Who." He gave Tonks a searching look, clearly not sure how much he dared to say.  
  
"There are certainly things that don't add up," Tonks agreed, keeping her tone neutral.  
  
"And you generally seem to have a good idea what's going on," Buckwaite continued. "So if you hear anything more…I suppose I'd be curious to know about it."  
  
"Sure," Tonks agreed. That was easy enough, and kept the Quaffle in her possession too. She could decide how much it was safe to tell him, or not.  
  
"Well," he said, standing abruptly. "I guess that case file isn't going to read itself." With a friendly parting nod, he headed back to his own desk.  
  
Remembering that conversation now, Tonks felt heartened. It was good to know there were people like Buckwaite at the Ministry. He might even be a help to her and Kingsley as they tried to gently lean on Scrimgeour to lean on Fudge to allow the Aurors to shift their focus. Tonks was pretty sure Scrimgeour didn't believe Fudge's fantasies – that Sirius was the great enemy, or that Dumbledore was secretly working to unseat Fudge – any more than she herself did. But Scrimgeour was savvy, too, and liked to hedge his political bets.  
  
As Tonks signed off on another document, her mind wandered away from her yet again, this time to Remus. The nights they’d been able to spend together had been few and far between, though each one was lovelier than the last. Tonks was learning all the different tender expressions Remus showed her, all the different ways his eyes crinkled with humour and joy when they were together. Even in the midst of dull paperwork, the thought of Remus’ smile made her grin.  
  
In public, though, he was increasingly distant. Which meant increasingly distant was the only part of him Tonks got to see, since in public was the only place they’d got a chance to cross paths for a while now. And she couldn’t read him when he was like that, when he smiled politely across the crowded table in the basement kitchen, no hint of any personal feeling in his eyes.  
  
Hot and cold. Remus running hot and cold. Because then, two evenings ago, Tonks had dropped by the house to leave some documents with Sirius, and Remus had found her in the entrance hall as she was leaving and swept her up in a kiss so passionate, even now her knees went shaky thinking about it. “I’ll see you soon, I promise,” he’d whispered when they broke apart, both dazed, and then he’d disappeared down the basement stairs.  
  
Except he _hadn’t_. She hadn’t seen Remus since then. She would presumably see him tonight at the Order meeting, but that would be in public again, in distant mode. And Tonks was getting sick of trying to calculate how Remus would respond to her any given time she saw him, whether this time he’d act like a lover or a stranger.  
  
" _Tonks_ ," hissed Albert Buckle, the second most junior Auror. Tonks snapped her head up to see Scrimgeour headed their way, passing through the Aurors' cubicles on his way out to the main corridor. She collected herself just in time to give her boss a professional nod as he passed, then shot Buckle a grateful smile and turned her attention back to her work.  
  
Before she left for the Order meeting tonight, she'd find a chance to copy these reports, and sneak them out of the Ministry inside the sleeve of her robes.  
  
The things she did for justice!  
  
– – – – –  
  
"I imagine some of you are growing tired of waiting to take action," Dumbledore said, and Tonks thought she saw his eyes twinkle in her direction, before he returned to solemnly addressing the entire Order. "All I can tell you is that I feel sure it won't be long before Voldemort moves into the open. And when he does so, we shall be ready for him."  
  
From far down one side of the table, Tonks couldn't help bursting out, "But all this time, he's gathering more people to fight for him!"  
  
Now Dumbledore really did send a smile her way. "Indeed. But so are we."  
  
Tonks looked around and saw that the basement kitchen, cavernous though it was, really was almost uncomfortably crowded. Nearly everyone had turned up for this meeting, even McGonagall and Snape, who usually stayed behind to hold down the Hogwarts fort when Dumbledore was away.  
  
"We have strengths Voldemort can only dream of, and we know more about him than he can imagine," Dumbledore continued. He looked around the room and nodded to himself, looking quietly pleased. "And speaking of being ready for the battles we are sure to face, Alastor has a proposal for you."  
  
Dumbledore ceded the floor and took a seat at the table as Mad-Eye Moody stumped to the front of the room.  
  
"It's more Dumbledore's idea than mine," Moody began, "but I'll be taking the practical end of things. Duelling training. Consider the fact that Aurors, no matter how advanced, never stop practising their duelling skills and advanced spells. Because better wizards than any of us have been killed in a moment of distraction." He stared around the room ominously. "I do realise you're all fully trained wizards, so no one is obliged to stay. But Sirius here has made the house's wine cellar available as a practice space, and I'm willing to run some drills after meetings, starting today."  
  
The room was silent, and it occurred to Tonks that this series of blunt statements had actually been Moody's way of posing a question. "I think that's a terrific idea," she said. "You can never train enough, and I'm glad to learn anything Mad-Eye’s willing to teach."  
  
From across the table, Remus was the next to speak. "We're none of us too old to learn new things," he said. "And I know for me, at least, it's been a long time since theoretical knowledge was put into regular practice. I'd like to know I've prepared in every way I could, if it ever comes down to any one of you trusting your lives to my duelling skills."  
  
Tonks smiled across at him, pleased to hear him voice support for her old mentor, and Remus smiled back – then looked away.  
  
She gritted her teeth in frustration. Would it kill him to act normally? Or at least to have a proper conversation with her about _why_ he insisted on being this way? Remus was such a master at dodging questions he didn’t want to answer.  
  
There was a scraping of chairs, and Tonks realised the group must have agreed to Moody's proposal while her thoughts were elsewhere. Sirius was ushering everyone towards a small door off the kitchen.  
  
Tonks looked again for Remus, and was surprised to see him and Mad-Eye conferring with Dumbledore, with Snape and McGonagall also nearby. Moving sideways through the crowd that was funnelling into the wine cellar, Tonks tried to get close enough to hear what they were saying.  
  
Dumbledore's voice reached her in small snippets over the general chatter. "…a time when I am forced to leave…" he was saying, his attention directed to Mad-Eye and Remus. "…with Minerva and Severus, of course…" And then: "…but it would be a great relief to know that both of you…"  
  
The rest of the conversation was lost to Tonks entirely, as she was carried along down a narrow, twisting staircase that descended to a cellar even deeper than the kitchen.  
  
It was an enormous subterranean space – yet another of the house's many secrets, though Tonks supposed by this point she should just stop being surprised. This cellar-below-the-cellar looked as if it had lain untouched for years, the heavy wooden shelves along its walls stocked with bottles whose labels were nearly obscured beneath a blanket of dust.  
  
"I did put a cushioning spell on all those shelves before inviting Moody down here to wreak havoc. Wouldn't do to have good wine go to waste, no matter who originally owned it," a voice said in her ear, and Tonks looked around to see Sirius smirking at her.  
  
Tonks smiled back. "How come you kept the good stuff a secret all this time, huh?"  
  
"Because after Moody asked, it took me a solid two weeks to get into this room past all the protective jinxes my father put on his precious wine collection," Sirius replied, and Tonks saw he wasn't joking.  
  
"Form pairs!" Moody called from one end of the cellar.  
  
"Partner?" Tonks asked Sirius.  
  
"Sure," he agreed, looking surprised.  
  
Out of the corner of her eye, Tonks saw that Remus had made it down to the wine cellar as well, though Dumbledore seemed to have departed together with Snape and McGonagall. She was dying to know from Remus what Dumbledore had been discussing with him, but she knew better than to try to talk to the infuriating man in public.  
  
"Today," Moody told the assembled group, which Tonks was pleased to see included nearly everyone who'd been at the meeting, "we'll be focusing on accuracy. How well can you aim a curse or a jinx? How many can you cast in the space of a minute and still be on target? Can you aim with your eyes closed?" Without breaking his conversational tone, Moody pointed his wand behind his back and shot off ten rapid-fire jets of magenta light at a target he'd affixed to the wall behind him. Within seconds, ten magenta marks clustered around the bullseye.  
  
"That's setting unrealistic expectations, Mad-Eye!" Tonks called. "Not all of us have eyes in the back of our heads, you know!"  
  
Moody fixed her with his beady stare, but she could tell by the tiny twitch at one side of his mouth that he was amused. "Which means you need to train twice as hard," he growled. "Now, practise!"  
  
With a flick of his wand, Moody doled out parchment targets similar to the one he'd used, and the Order members spread out through the enormous, dimly lit cellar, partners taking turns aiming and spotting one another. Then Moody had them aim at a levitating, moving target while their partners stood in the way and tried to block their shots, then they aimed, whilst blindfolded, at their partners, who guided them by the sound of their voices. It was enormously fun, and reminded Tonks why she'd enjoyed Auror basic training so much.  
  
Best of all, Sirius was clearly having a blast. Tonks hadn't seen him smile so much since, well, certainly at least since Harry had last been in the house. Clearly, battle agreed with her cousin.  
  
Once they’d run through his series of training exercises, Moody let them simply duel, with no specific assignment beyond of course not to injure one another in earnest.  
  
"You ready, cousin?" Tonks asked, as Moody counted to three at the far end of the room.  
  
"The question," Sirius retorted, "is whether _you_ are ready for _me_."  
  
Then Moody shouted, "Go!" and they were duelling.  
  
Sirius was good, ferocious even, clearly channelling all his frustrations into the working of his wand. The only thing that worried Tonks was how reckless he was, always going for the big, showy move instead of the sensible one.  
  
"Sirius, keep your eyes on my face!" she shouted over the hubbub of the pairs of duellists around them. "Stop distracting yourself with your own cleverness!"  
  
Sirius smirked and used her own distraction as she spoke to get in a sneaky little spell that knocked her legs out from her.  
  
"Fair enough," Tonks groused, as Sirius gave her a sporting hand up from the floor. They nodded, waited a silent count of three, then continued.  
  
“So what’s the deal with you and old Moony lately?” Sirius asked, and Tonks swore under her breath, because he’d startled her enough to allow him to get in a Jelly-Legs Jinx.  
  
“That was underhanded,” she complained, as she performed the countercurse on her legs and shot off a Stinging Hex at Sirius mostly out of spite.  
  
He smirked and parried. “And also a serious question. What’s the deal? Are you two avoiding each other?”  
  
“ _I’m_ certainly not avoiding _him_ ,” Tonks said, nearly succeeding in disarming Sirius.  
  
“You split up or something?”  
  
“What? No!” Tonks fired off a Heavy-Feet Hex, and Sirius grunted with the effort of deflecting it. Then, more honestly, she added, “Maybe. Hell, I don’t know. Are we even together in the first place?”  
  
“You can’t give _up_ , Tonks,” Sirius said, sounding almost angry. “He’s an idiot about these things, as I’m sure you’ve seen. Do you know how long it took us to get him to admit out loud that we were, in fact, his mates?” He blocked a series of on-target hexes from Tonks, but kept talking. “You’ve got to keep after him. Don’t let him do his disappearing act into that shell he loves to live in.”  
  
“Oh, so now it’s my fault Remus is acting weird?” Tonks demanded.  
  
“No!” Sirius said, narrowly dodging a hex from her that would have caused him to grow tentacles. “It’s not your fault. But I’m just saying – don’t give up on him, would you?”  
  
Tonks finally found her advantage, pressed it, and landed Sirius on his back, his feet swept out from under him, just as he’d done to her before. He blinked up at her in consternation. Tonks grinned down at him, then leaned in to give him a hand up.  
  
“Not bad, little cousin,” he grumbled.  
  
“Yeah, being an Auror and all does help,” she said, still grinning cheekily at him. “And Sirius? Thanks for the advice, but I can sort out my own life.”  
  
He looked like he was about to say something more, but just then Moody called from the front of the room, “Switch partners!”  
  
Tonks nodded at Sirius, turned to look around for a new partner – and came face to face with Remus.  
  
He looked as startled as she felt, but there was no time to try to switch again, as Moody was already calling, “Ready? Begin on the count of three.”  
  
Tonks and Remus nodded at each other, wands raised, and Moody called, “Go!”  
  
Tonks was so focused on being sure to duel Remus the same way she would duel anyone else, not giving him any special advantages or breaks, that it took her a while to realise he wasn’t doing the same. Oh, he did a good job of _looking_ like he was duelling, with plenty of parrying and wand-waving, but he had yet to cast a single offensive spell.  
  
“Remus,” she gritted out, trying and failing not to get angry, “Stop the mollycoddling and _hex_ me.”  
  
“No,” he ground out, sounding just as frustrated. “I can’t aim to harm you, Dora.”  
  
“Then what’s the point? What are we doing here?” She’d stopped casting spells, since he wasn’t doing it either, but that felt even more ridiculous, to be doing nothing more than dancing around with her wand in the air.  
  
“Keeping up appearances, I suppose,” Remus said, still waving his wand around in a fair approximation of a man duelling.  
  
 _Keeping up appearances_. Was that all he ever did?  
  
“Okay, well, since we’re apparently having a chat instead of duelling, let me tell you that your _appearances_ are getting awfully confusing. You act like we’re close, then you act like you hardly know me, then you _kiss_ me out of nowhere – what do you want from me Remus?”  
  
“I–” He opened his mouth, then closed it again.  
  
“You know it's got to the point where Sirius just asked me if we’d split up? I told him I wasn’t entirely sure we were even together in the first place, because I _can’t tell_ what’s going on behind that façade of yours.”  
  
Remus quailed under her gaze, dropping his eyes. “I'm sorry.”  
  
“And don’t _ever_ look away when duelling,” Tonks growled. He looked back up, startled, to find her wand inches from his nose. “I’m not going to hex you, because you apparently can’t be bothered to hex me, but don’t ever let down your guard like that in a real duel.”  
  
“I won’t,” he said, sounding surprised by her intensity.  
  
“I'm so tired of trying to figure out what you want,” Tonks pushed on. “You want to be together, but you don't want anyone to know; you want a relationship but without having to let yourself get too close. It doesn't work that way.”  
  
“I'll try harder –”  
  
“ _No_.” She stepped in close to him, wand still wielded. “I don’t want you to ‘try’ to do something if it’s not what you really want. If you can't do it, or don't want to do it, then don't, okay?”  
  
Remus seemed to find his voice at last. “No, it’s not like that. I want this –” His voice dropped to a whisper, aware of the other pairs in close proximity, as the two of them continued to circle each other, not duelling. “I want this, with you, more than I can say. I want it, and I’m terrified by it. I am terrified by the idea of bringing harm to you.”  
  
“And I’ve told you I think that’s ridiculous.”  
  
“I can’t change the way I feel!”  
  
“I need a break.” The words spilled from her lips.  
  
Remus took a half-step backwards. “What?”  
  
Tonks clenched her wand tighter in her hand. “Work is so full-on right now, you have no idea, then there’s everything for the Order too, and it’s making me nuts trying to figure you out. I can’t do all of that at once. I need… I need a break from us seeing each other.”  
  
She saw him swallow, wrestling to keep that kind, blank neutrality on his face. “If that’s…if that’s what you need, then yes, of course.”  
  
“Ugh, Remus!” she burst out, then quelled her voice again. She had to resist casting a hex right in his face – with her wand outstretched and him being so very maddening, the temptation was strong. “Would you just be angry, if you’re angry? Stop saying things are all right, if they’re not. Say what you feel for once!”  
  
“I’m…not angry,” Remus said, seeming to struggle with the words. They were circling each other more slowly now, locked in something that was both less and more than a practise duel. “What I am is disappointed in myself. I care very much for you, and I’m not doing a good job of showing you that.”  
  
Damn the man, he was so difficult to stay cross with.  
  
“Time!” Moody called from somewhere across the room. “Put down your wands.”  
  
Tonks lowered her wand, still staring at Remus. She felt winded, though all they’d done was talk and waltz in a circle.  
  
Remus stared back at her.  
  
“Let’s just…not see each other for a bit. I need to get my head clear,” Tonks said, aching even as she said it.  
  
Remus bowed his head. “All right.”  
  
Others began to move past them, towards the stairs that led back up to the kitchen.  
  
Furtively, Tonks reached out and squeezed Remus’ hand, quick and hard. It was all she could do not to give in and say, _I’ll see you soon, okay?_ But she’d meant what she said – she needed to figure out on her own where she stood.  
  
She forced herself not to look back at him as she found her way to the stairs.  
  
– – – – –  
  
For Remus, the next weeks were ones of frustration and monotony. There were meetings, there was duelling practice, he did some research for Dumbledore. And threaded through it all, there were the awkward moments when he and Tonks inevitably crossed paths within the Order.  
  
The worst part was knowing he'd simply let her walk away from him.  
  
He’d had something wonderful, and he’d let it slip away, because…  
  
Well, because he’d had good reasons to hold back.  
  
That didn’t make it any easier.  
  
There was tension in the air among all of them, an unspoken sense that whatever was coming was coming fast. The news from Hogwarts, of Dolores Umbridge's tightening grip on power, was disturbing. The lack of news from Voldemort was even more alarming. He was planning something, and not even Snape had been able to find out what.  
  
One evening, Arthur dropped by Headquarters unannounced and he and Remus spent a couple hours just talking, trying, with limited success, not to give voice their fears. If even even-keeled Arthur was afraid, Remus thought afterwards, they really were in trouble.  
  
And still, there was nothing they could do but train, and steel themselves for the battles to come, and hope it would be enough.  
  
– – – – –  
  
For Sirius, the next weeks dragged unbearably.  
  
Everyone was on edge, but with fewer and fewer useful tasks into which to channel their nervous energy. Remus was home in London more often now, which should have been a welcome change for housebound Sirius, but these days Remus mostly skulked around the place, trying but failing to hide his dour mood now that he was inexplicably not together with Tonks.  
  
Sirius, whose mood was perpetually dour and who depended on Remus' even temper more than he liked to admit, found this exceptionally trying.  
  
They snapped at each other without meaning to. Sirius found himself irritated by the way Remus spun his spoon absentmindedly in the sugar bowl at breakfast, and by his insistence on acting as if life were normal, when it wasn't.  
  
On top of it all, Harry hadn't written in over three weeks, which struck Sirius as dire. Hardly a week had gone by all year without at least a short missive scrawled on a scrap of parchment, even as his godson had less and less positive news to share.  
  
"If anything happens to Harry, I'm going up there," Sirius informed Remus one evening in early April. They were in the basement kitchen, drinking tea and killing time in a way that had become all too familiar. "Dumbledore's rules be damned, I'm not sitting here if he needs me."  
  
" _No_ , Sirius," Remus repeated, reminding Sirius ever more of a man reprimanding a dog or a recalcitrant child. "Umbridge isn't worth risking your life over."  
  
"Who cares," Sirius growled. "How much is my life worth at this point, anyway? Cooped up in this house, doing nothing? Wasting everybody's time and space? How much have I got to lose?"  
  
"Don't be stupid," Remus said shortly.  
  
" _I'm_ being stupid? Says the man who's had a beautiful woman throwing herself at him for the last year, but insists on ignoring her?"  
  
From across the table, Remus glared. "It's really not your concern."  
  
"Except it _is_ my concern, because I have to watch you mope, and I have to watch _her_ looking tragic whenever she comes over. What do you think you're playing at?"  
  
"I am not _playing at_ anything! I'm trying to protect her. Or maybe it's not worth trying to explain that to you, since you never do take safety and sense into consideration, do you?"  
  
"Oh, yes, noble, noble Remus. It's all for her good, isn't it, and never because Remus himself is scared?"  
  
"Damn it, Sirius!" Remus shoved back his chair and rose, his tea forgotten on the table. "I've never said I was a good man. That was always you putting words in my mouth."  
  
Sirius pushed himself to his feet too, unaccountably angry, all of his frustration directed at Remus. "Well, would it kill you to try? Why do you insist on destroying every good thing you have?"  
  
"I do _not_ –"  
  
"Tonks is the best thing that's ever happened to you, and _yes_ , I'm including James and all of us in that! She made you happy. I can't believe I have to sit here and watch you throw that away!”  
  
“I’m not –”  
  
“You _are_. This is that Ravenclaw girl all over again, and that woman when we were in the Order the first time, and everyone you’ve ever almost-but-not-quite-really-dated because oh, surely it wasn’t going to work out anyway. The common factor is _you,_ Remus. You’re the reason it never works out, because you can’t be arsed to try.”  
  
Remus’ gaze was icy. “If I’m such a lost cause, Sirius, then do feel free to stop poking your nose in.”  
  
“All you have to do, _all you have to do_ to be happy is reach out and take it!” Sirius was gripping the tabletop so hard he could barely feel his knuckles, and Remus was glaring back at him. “For a man who’s got everything he’s ever wanted right in front of him, you’re sure blasé about just throwing it away.”  
  
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Remus said tightly, still standing a step away from the table, tensed as if to spring, or to run away.  
  
The force of Sirius’ frustration had him leaning across the table towards Remus. “I know exactly what I’m talking about! You’re a coward. You’re a fucking coward. You would rather wait and wait, and hedge your bets until it’s far too late, than ever _do_ something.”  
  
“Oh, because _your_ rash brand of decision-making has served you so well, I suppose!” Remus snapped. “Acting first and thinking later, that’s worked out well for you in the past, has it, Sirius?”  
  
Sirius reeled back, feeling the words in the centre of his chest like a punch.  
  
 _No, listen, James, it’s brilliant, we’ll switch who’s Secret Keeper and not tell anyone. We can do it tonight._  
  
 _Take my motorbike, then, Hagrid. There’s just something I’ve got to do first._  
  
“Fuck. You,” Sirius said very clearly, suddenly icy calm.  
  
Remus’ eyes widened. “Sirius, I’m –”  
  
“No. Go to hell.”  
  
Sirius turned and stalked up the stairs, breath coming hard as he stomped one foot after the other, taking the stairs two and three at a time. Away, he just wanted to get away. But of course there was nowhere to go.  
  
He made it as far as the landing between his and his brother's childhood bedrooms before he heard Remus' steps behind him. Sirius stopped with his hand on the doorknob to his old room, unwilling to turn and face Remus.  
  
“Sirius, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”  
  
Sirius tightened his shoulders and clenched his jaw, and didn’t turn around.  
  
“Truly, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. It wasn’t your fault that…any of it. It wasn’t your fault.”  
  
Sirius begged to differ – it was his fault, it would always be his fault – but he felt too weary to have that argument now.  
  
“No harm done,” he said shortly, staring at the wood grain of the door in front of him, clenching the doorknob in his hand. “We’re old punching bags for each other, aren’t we?”  
  
“And you’re right,” Remus continued, very quietly, behind him. “I’m a coward and I always have been. I was never like you or James.”  
  
Sirius sighed and felt his shoulders slump in submission. “Oh, shut up. You’re not a coward. There are a whole lot of things I could call you, but that’s not one of them.”  
  
“Sirius, please turn around. I hate having a conversation with your back.”  
  
Sirius growled, but obeyed. The two of them surveyed each other, one from the landing, the other from midway up the flight of stairs. Slowly, as if afraid to startle Sirius with any sudden movements, Remus ascended the rest of the way and sat down on the top step. He ran his hands through his hair, his time-honoured gesture of not knowing what to say.  
  
Sirius leaned back against the bedroom door and looked down at Remus. He looked so tired. When had they got old and tired? Not to mention there was Andromeda, with a daughter already old enough to be causing Remus grief.  
  
“You’re right,” Remus said. “I am terrified, and it’s paralysed me. I’ve made a mess of things with Dora because of it. But I _am_ trying to protect her. Say whatever else you want about me and you won’t be wrong, but that much is true. I care about her too much to put her in danger.”  
  
Sirius crossed his arms. “It’s _all_ danger. You can end up losing everything, at any moment. If we’ve learned anything, isn’t it that? But that’s not a reason not to try.”  
  
“It’s not that simple –”  
  
“Except it _is._ I swear, I’d kill for the opportunities you take for granted. Watching you waltz in and out of here, going where you please, falling in _love_ –” Sirius broke off, not trusting his voice to take him further.  
  
Remus stared up at him, eyes widening. “Sirius – I’m sorry, I should have thought –”  
  
“No,” Sirius said gruffly. “No, that’s not the point. You don’t have to feel bad for the fact that you get to have a life! I’m just saying – you have this incredible opportunity. So fucking _take_ it.”  
  
Remus dropped his head into his hands. “What am I supposed to do?” he asked, voice muffled behind his palms.  
  
Feeling weary, too weary to even keep standing, Sirius dropped down next to Remus on the top step and leaned against the wall. The wallpaper against his cheek was an ugly, faded olive green.  
  
“Go talk to her,” Sirius said. “And figure it out together. Only thing you can do, really.” He prodded Remus’ shoulder, trying to push him up.  
  
Remus looked at him in confusion and said, "What, right _now_?"  
  
"Yes, right now. Because by tomorrow you'll have lost your nerve again, and we’ll have go through all of this all over again, and frankly I don’t have the energy, do you?"  
  
Remus groaned.  
  
"I'm serious," Sirius said. "In fact, I'm going to see you out, and seal the door, and I'm not letting you back in until you've had a proper conversation with Tonks."  
  
Then he escorted Remus downstairs and did just that.  
  
– – – – –  
  
Remus paced Tonks’ street a good number of times before he finally approached the door to her building, and even then, he hesitated to ring the buzzer. What would she say? She was the one who had asked for a break – ought he to disturb her now? How much of his back-and-forth was she willing to put up with, anyway?  
  
"Yes?" came her voice over the building's Muggle intercom when he finally rang the bell. It was well into evening by now, but he hadn't even thought to worry he might disturb her. They each knew each other's schedules too well for that.  
  
"It's Remus," Remus said.  
  
There was a pause. "Hey."  
  
"Can we talk?"  
  
There was a longer pause, and Remus felt his stomach clench. Tonks’ voice when she finally answered was cautious. "What about?"  
  
"Er. Well. I was talking to Sirius just now… rowing, actually, I suppose I’d have to say. And he thinks I’m wasting an extraordinary opportunity with you – which he’s not wrong about – but the upshot of the discussion was… he's not going to let me back into the house until I've talked to you."  
  
He heard her little huff of laughter over the intercom. "I see."  
  
"So… can I come in?"  
  
"Oh, I don't know. I'm going to have to think about that for a bit." Now she was deliberately teasing him.  
  
Remus leaned one arm against the intercom panel and fought down giddiness. When, he wondered, had it got this far, that just the tinny sound of this woman's voice as she bantered with him from several storeys up made his heart swoop and sail?  
  
"That's fine. I'll just stand here," he said, playing along, trying to sound martyr-like.  
  
There was definitely a bit of a smile in her voice this time. "I'm buzzing you in. But don't get any ideas, buster."  
  
The door buzzed open and Remus took the stairs two at a time. When he reached Tonks' floor, she was leaning in the doorframe, watching him approach.  
  
"Poor Remus," she said. "Locked out, huh?" She was smiling wryly, but there was still something reserved about her posture, and he stopped somewhat short of her door.  
  
"I know that expression so well," she mused, holding his gaze. "That's 'sheepish Remus,' come to apologise for whatever it is he feels he has to apologise for this time." Before he could come up with a reply to that, she sighed and offered, "Would you like to come in?"  
  
He studied her face. "Not if you look that unhappy about it."  
  
"No, it's okay," she said. "Really. Come in."  
  
She stepped back to let him pass, and Remus entered the flat, breathing in its familiar scent, taking in the sight of the familiar, simple room. It felt alarmingly like coming home.  
  
Tonks put her hand on his arm to steer him into the kitchen, the gesture easy and habitual, and parked him on one of the two chairs at the tiny table in her even tinier kitchen. She turned to put tea on, one of those herbal infusions she liked and he had never quite got the hang of, then leaned one hip against the counter and surveyed him. "Okay, so what is it we’re supposed to be talking about?"  
  
Remus gazed back at her, at a loss again. "Maybe it would be easier if you start?"  
  
"Nuh-uh, this is _your_ conversation, so _you_ start it." Tonks pressed a teacup into his hand, then slid into the seat opposite him. Remus bent his head over his cup and inhaled. Rosehips. "You can do this," she said, her voice going gentler. “You have stuff you want to say to me, clearly. So…say it. You’re not going to make me angry just by saying what you feel." She reached across the table and took his hand.  
  
It was the hardest thing, somehow, to put feelings into words and release them into the world.  
  
"I'm afraid of so many things," Remus started. Tonks’ eyes on him were so kind. "I’ve always erred on the side of caution. And a lot of times that was necessary. It was safer for me to live that way, given...what I am. But always safe and always afraid, that’s no way to live, and I know that, but – it’s hard to know how to be any other way. Above all, Dora, I am so terrified of doing something that would be wrong for you."  
  
"Because Merlin forbid I be allowed to make my own decisions about that," she murmured.  
  
"I know, I'm unfair to you. You're wiser in many ways than I'll ever be."  
  
"I don't know about _that_."  
  
"You know how to open your heart. I'm still working on that." The impulse to look away, to run away, was so strong, but Remus forced himself to keep meeting her gaze. "Dora, I have a lot left to learn. But I'm trying."  
  
"Don't make me any promises right now," she whispered. "I don't think I can take it."  
  
"I'm not. I won't."  
  
"Because I have to tell you, I’m not particularly keen on you being all logical and explaining yourself and convincing me this can work, if you’re only going to change again next week."  
  
Remus felt his body slump in on itself. "I probably will do that."  
  
"Remus –"  
  
"No, you're right. I always end up hurting you, one way or another, and that's precisely why I keep trying to distance myself. But I keep coming back, too, because I'm a little too selfish to stay away."  
  
"But there's no _reason_ you have to stay away!"  
  
"Maybe after all this is over," Remus said. "After the war is over, when things aren't so precarious…"  
  
" _No_." Tonks shook her head so emphatically, the motion of her body shook the rickety table beneath their joined hands. "That's not how it works, you don't save up the good things for later. Live your life now. You never know what will happen, later."  
  
Remus looked at Tonks sitting there across from him, so good and earnest and whole, and his heart ached inside his chest. "Sirius said pretty much the same thing," he told her, his voice hoarse.  
  
"Sirius," she informed him, "is surprisingly wise, when he wants to be." She squeezed his fingers in hers. "Listen, do you remember I told you once I wasn't sure if we would still be friends, if we weren't a couple?"  
  
"I do."  
  
"I was wrong. I need you as my friend, Remus. I need you in my life. I _do_ want to be with you, I really, really do, but first I need to know you’re someone I can count on to just…be there. So can we – I don’t know, can we be friends, to start with? And kind of…work our way up from there?"  
  
Remus swallowed down a lump rising in his throat, that she would still offer that. "Yes. Of course."  
  
Tonks smiled softly, but she kept her tone light. "Sounds like we've got a deal. Shake on it?"  
  
Feeling a bit silly, Remus shook her hand once, then let it go. "I’m terribly lucky to have you as a friend," he said. He’d meant to match her light tone, but it came out very earnest.  
  
A trace of sadness flitted across Tonks’ face, but was subsumed again by her warm smile. "And I feel lucky to know you. Really. Sounds like sort of a stupid thing to say after all this, doesn’t it? But I think we are, actually. We’re lucky."  
  
Remus smiled back, but before he could say anything, there was a flash of flame in the air between them, and a single golden phoenix feather dropped out of nothingness onto the kitchen table. Remus stared at it for a long moment, though he knew perfectly well what it meant.  
  
He looked up at Tonks, seeing surprise and confusion on her face. "I'm so sorry," he said. "I have to go."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear lovely readers! I want to let you know now that I'll probably take a couple weeks' break in posting over the holidays; I'm going to be traveling, hosting visitors, celebrating my last New Year's Eve in the city where I've lived for 7+ years and then, for my final trick, pulling off a trans-Atlantic move! So posting this story might have to pause, just for a couple weeks. Don't worry; the story is completely written, I just might not have time to post the next chapters over the holidays. I'll let you know more exactly how the schedule will look, when I post next week as usual. Thanks as always for following along this far!


	16. The Calm before the Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so here's my posting plan for the next weeks – because things are about to get (even more) hectic for me, I'm going to switch to posting chapters every two weeks. So I won't post a chapter next Friday, but I will post on or around Friday two weeks from now. And on or around Friday two weeks after that. And then that's it for Part 1! (Part 2 will follow...)
> 
> Meanwhile, though, you're all invited to follow me over to the R/T fic event currently running at my favorite Remus/Tonks comm, [rt_morelove](http://rt-morelove.livejournal.com/) – come read new Remus/Tonks stories from now until January 6, or pick a prompt and join in the writing! I've already written a few short Deathly-Hallows-era pieces there, and one fun, co-written, early-OotP-era story.

   
   
 _You can live in the corner of my room_  
 _And I will live somewhere between the ceiling and the wall_  
 _And if I need anything at all_  
 _I'll call out to you_  
   
 _–Angus and Julia Stone, Here We Go Again_  
   
 

  
Remus Apparated to the pavement outside the Hog's Head Inn in Hogsmeade at nearly the same moment Mad-Eye Moody did.  
   
"Prove you are who you appear to be," Moody growled, and Remus knew the other man was gripping his wand under his cloak.  
   
"Albus Dumbledore told the two of us it would be a 'great relief' to know we would work together in the event of his absence," Remus said.  
   
"And he used the words 'working in tandem' to describe McGonagall and Snape's role," Moody replied. "All right, proof enough for me. You?"  
   
"Yes."  
   
Moody pushed open the door to the pub, and Remus followed.  
   
Inside, the place was as drab as ever, and nearly deserted aside from a small knot of elderly wizards playing a gambling game in one corner, their playing cards emitting whizzes and bangs and orange flashes of light.  
   
Moody went to claim them a booth at the back of the room, while Remus headed towards the bar to do the ordering. Moody's habit of never drinking anything but his own was too well known for him to plausibly take that role.  
   
"A Firewhisky, please," Remus said, the most neutral and inconspicuous drink he could think of.  
   
Aberforth Dumbledore made no comment as he slapped the glass down on the bar, but when Remus glanced down, he saw a bit of folded-up parchment beneath it.  
   
"Thank you," Remus said, handing over coins in payment for the drink. Aberforth nodded, and Remus took both glass and parchment to the booth where Moody was waiting. Moody set his flask at the outside edge of the table, so it would somewhat obscure a casual observer's view, and Remus slid the small square of parchment towards the middle of the table.  
   
"I am Alastor Moody," Moody said, tapping the parchment with his wand.  
   
"I am Remus Lupin," Remus said, reaching across the table to do the same.  
   
The parchment unfolded of its own accord, and thin, spidery handwriting began to spread outwards from its centre.  
   
 _I am at a safe location_ , Dumbledore's letter read. _It's best we don't attempt to meet, but instead continue to correspond in this manner as planned. Either of you can come here without arousing suspicion, under the pretence of meeting with Minerva._  
 _It has come much as I had anticipated: Cornelius has finally found a pretext for removing me from Hogwarts, but as his version involved Aurors, arrest and an unproductive stay in Azkaban, I chose to take a different path._  
 _I cannot help but think this new situation will prove advantageous in certain ways, as I am now in an unprecedented position to carry out some necessary research to which I had been hoping to devote more time. If I am concerned for the students at Hogwarts, I must remind myself they are in the capable hands of Minerva, Severus and the rest of the staff. I could say the same about the Order of the Phoenix in your hands._  
 _Alastor, I trust you to convene the Order when necessary and to continue practical training. Remus, I depend on you to keep lines of communication open amongst our members. I authorise either of you to make decisions on my behalf in cases when time is of the essence. And I ask that you refrain from sending a message to me by Patronus unless a dire scenario should arise._  
 _Please ensure that Harry continues to study Occlumency. This grows ever more urgent._  
 _Please destroy this letter._  
 _A. P. W. B. D._  
   
Moody set the parchment aflame with a tap of his wand, and the two of them looked at each other over the flames as they flickered and died away, leaving nothing but a dusting of ash.  
   
"And so the game begins," Remus said.  
   
Moody nodded, then surprised Remus by saying, "It's good to have you on board, Lupin." He leaned across the table and clapped Remus on the shoulder.  
   
There was nothing else that needed to be said for the time being – but plenty to do if they wanted to let the Order's members know what had happened before the morning Prophet arrived and gave them a shock.  
   
They parted ways outside the Hog's Head and set off across the country to spread the news.  
   
– – – – –  
  
  
The next morning's Daily Prophet set the entire wizarding community buzzing with dismay. Within the Order of the Phoenix, however, the reaction was one of disappointment but no great surprise, and Remus was grateful to see how determinedly everyone kept on. If anything, this sign of how bad things had become only increased everyone’s focus and determination.  
   
And even the shock to the wider community was not necessarily a bad thing. Fudge's stories were growing less believable by the day, and public opinion was turning.  
   
For his own part, Remus took seriously Dumbledore's charge to oversee Order communications, and was on the go constantly, shuttling between members, passing along messages, keeping everyone informed.  
   
He dropped by the Hog's Head periodically to leave messages for the elder Dumbledore brother with the taciturn but dependable younger brother. McGonagall (yes, Remus knew he was allowed to call her Minerva now, but it never quite sounded right to his ears) was good about coming out to meet him at the pub, giving him a pretext for being there. Just in case anyone was watching.  
   
Sometimes in the evenings, nearly dead on his feet, Remus would drop by Tonks' flat, and she would greet him with a smile, then make him stop moving and rest for a bit on her sofa. Sometimes she would touch his hand or his shoulder, but Remus kept himself from leaning into that touch, held himself back from wanting or asking for more.  
   
On one evening, she sat next to him on the sofa – it was a deep shade indigo this month, and Remus smiled even through his weariness at Tonks’ endearing impatience with furniture that stayed the same for too long – and read some work papers of her own. As she read, she reached out one hand to stroke Remus’ hair where his head rested next to her hip, and Remus closed his eyes and carefully did not wish for any more than this. From the way her hand occasionally hitched in its motion, he could tell Tonks was thinking much the same.  
   
But they never took it further than the sofa. It was a slow and careful courtship, this time, a building up of trust, and that wasn’t something that could be accomplished in a single day – or a single night. As much as he longed to hold Tonks, to kiss her endlessly, to grab her hand and pull her up from the couch and take her to bed, Remus wanted even more to do it right this time, to be someone she could depend on, first. So they stayed beside each other on the sofa, on those quiet evenings at her flat that were a reprieve from the rest of the world, and it was almost enough.  
   
– – – – –  
   
Nearly two weeks after Dumbledore's flight, Sirius finally got a letter from Harry, and Remus came down to the kitchen at 12 Grimmauld Place to find him frowning at it.  
   
"Can't make heads nor tails of this," Sirius grumbled. "I mean, I can see why he's being cautious about what he says, since the parchment's all crumpled and manhandled and it took a week and a half to get here after he wrote it. But what's the good if I have no blasted idea what he's talking about?"  
   
Remus knew to take these complaints with a grain of Pixie dust – Sirius would still light up like a kid at Christmas even if Harry wrote in Gobbledegook – but he obligingly took the letter from Sirius' hand and had a look at it, leaning against the table. As he read, he felt a slow smile spreading across his face.  
   
"What?" Sirius demanded. "What are you getting out of that that I'm not? I understand 'sometimes I feel bad about things that happen, even if they're out of my control,' he means Dumbledore having to leave, but what's the bit about 'at least my friends and I have been learning to turn happiness into something stronger, which an old friend of yours once taught me'? You're the 'old friend,' I'm supposing from the inane way you're smiling."  
   
Remus kept smiling, but tried to rein it in to something less inane. "Patronuses," he said. "Goodness, not only can he produce one himself, but now he's teaching others?" The thought of Harry and his friends arming themselves with this powerful protective spell was comforting.  
   
"Patronuses," Sirius grumbled, "Of course, clear as mud. Remind me to remind Harry not to go into the business of code-writing." But he folded Harry's letter carefully into his pocket.  
   
Remus had worried how Sirius might react to the kids staying at school to revise during the Easter holidays – even though students had stayed at Hogwarts during the Easter holidays since time immemorial, especially in their O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. years – but so far he was bearing up all right. Molly and Arthur had offered to come over for part of Easter Sunday, which Remus thought very kind of them, that they wanted to show Sirius they cared even when Harry wasn't there.  
   
Then, late one afternoon not long after the holiday itself, Remus was at the kitchen table puzzling over an incomplete plan of the Department of Mysteries that Kingsley had managed to smuggle out for the Order, when he heard Harry himself say, "Sirius?"  
   
Remus started and spun around. Yes, Harry's head was in the fireplace. "Harry!" he said. "What are you – what's happened, is everything all right?"  
   
"Yeah," Harry said, looking shifty and not quite all right. "I just wondered – I mean, I just fancied a – a chat with Sirius."  
   
Remus knew that falsely casual expression far too well, having grown up with two boys who wore it almost constantly, but he simply rose to his feet and hurried out of the kitchen to get Sirius, who'd gone looking for the perpetually disappearing Kreacher.  
   
He managed more or less to maintain his decorum while still in the kitchen, but once out of Harry's sight, Remus dashed up the stairs from the basement, then hollered, "Sirius! Sirius, Harry's in the fire for you!"  
   
Remus could feel a bubble of vicarious elation rising in his chest. Whatever had driven Harry to the desperate measure of using the Floo from Hogwarts, at least it meant a chance for Sirius to see him face to face.  
   
Sirius pounded down the house’s many fights of stairs in less time than seemed possible, and raced Remus back to the kitchen.  
   
"What is it? Are you all right? Do you need help?" Sirius demanded, dropping down to Harry's eye level by the fire. Remus joined him there, not wanting to intrude, but wanting to be near at hand if they needed anything.  
   
"No, it's nothing like that," Harry said. "I just wanted to talk…about my dad."  
   
Remus looked at Sirius and Sirius looked at Remus. Harry had broken who knew how many school rules in order to get access to a fireplace, and now he was here…to talk to them about James?  
   
"Okay, sure," Sirius said, as if this were the most normal thing in the world. "What about him?"  
   
It all came tumbling out, a story of "accidentally" ending up in Severus Snape's Pensieve and seeing a terrible memory Snape had taken great pains to hide. How strange it was to hear Harry describe a scene from twenty years before as if it had only just happened – although for him, of course, it _had_ just happened. All of them out by the lake after an O.W.L. exam, Sirius haughty and bored, Peter playing James' one-man fan club and James lapping up the attention.  
   
Then Snape entering their crosshairs, James and Sirius tormenting him, Remus doing nothing to stop them. And Lily, easily the only one of them to have had both a brain and a conscience in those early years, stepping in to defend Snape.  
   
Harry tried to tell the story as a series of neutral facts, but Remus could hear the distress in his voice as he described James' arrogance, Lily's disdain. No, Snape's memory was not a pleasant one, from anyone's side.  
   
Harry completed his story and no one spoke. So Remus said, "I wouldn't like you to judge your father on what you saw there, Harry. He was only fifteen –"  
   
"I'm fifteen!" Harry interjected.  
   
Sirius took a different tack, trying to explain to Harry the rivalry that had existed between James and Severus, with years of bitter history already in place before the scene Harry had accidentally witnessed, years of mutual enmity and James' popularity and Snape's known fascination with the Dark Arts. Sirius added, "And James – whatever else he may have appeared to you, Harry – always hated the Dark Arts."  
   
"Yeah, but he just attacked Snape for no good reason, just because – well, just because you said you were bored."  
   
Harry looked uncomfortable implicating Sirius in this way and Sirius hurried to assure him, "I'm not proud of it."  
   
Remus glanced at Sirius, thinking that he really had managed to grow up somehow, despite Azkaban. Then he said, "Look, Harry, what you've got to understand is that your father and Sirius were the best in the school at whatever they did – everyone thought they were the height of cool – if they sometimes got a bit carried away –"  
   
"If we were sometimes arrogant little berks you mean," Sirius interrupted, and at that Remus really couldn't hold back a smile.  
   
"He kept messing up his hair," said Harry, sounding pained.  
   
Sirius' laugh was infectious, and Remus allowed himself to briefly entertain the foolish notion that perhaps they should send Harry back into memories of their school days more often, if it made Sirius laugh like that.  
   
"I'd forgotten he used to do that," Sirius said, his smile soft and indulgent.  
   
"Was he playing with the Snitch?" Remus couldn't help asking. Fifteen-year-old James. An arrogant, lovable berk indeed.  
   
"Yeah," Harry said, gazing at the two of them, perplexed. "Well…I thought he was a bit of an idiot."  
  
"Of course he was a bit of an idiot!" Sirius declared. "We were all idiots! Well – not Moony so much."  
   
Remus shook his head at being painted into this role yet again. "Did I ever tell you to lay off Snape? Did I ever have the guts to tell you I thought you were out of order?"  
   
"Yeah, well, you made us feel ashamed of ourselves sometimes…that was something…"  
   
Harry determinedly drew their attention back to the problem at hand. "And he kept looking over at the girls by the lake, hoping they were watching him!"  
   
Sirius shrugged. "Oh, well, he always made a fool of himself whenever Lily was around. He couldn't stop himself showing off whenever he got near her."  
   
Harry looked miserable at the very thought. "How come she married him? She hated him!"  
   
"Nah, she didn't." Sirius’ tone suggested it was incomprehensible that anyone could think such a thing, as if Sirius himself hadn’t spent the better part of six years at Hogwarts trying to convince James that Lily hated him and he should give it up already.  
  
"She started going out with him in seventh year," Remus tried to explain.  
   
"Once James had deflated his head a bit," Sirius added.  
   
"And stopped hexing people just for the fun of it," Remus couldn't help putting in.  
   
"Even Snape?" Harry wanted to know.  
   
That was a difficult one, and Remus tried to tread carefully. "Well, Snape was a special case," he said. "I mean, he never lost an opportunity to curse James so you couldn't really expect James to take that lying down, could you?"  
   
"And my mum was okay with that?"  
   
"She didn't know too much about it, to tell you the truth," Sirius said. "I mean, James didn't take Snape on dates with her and hex him in front of her, did he?" Sirius frowned to see Harry still looking unconvinced. "Look, your father was the best friend I ever had and he was a good person. A lot of people are idiots at the age of fifteen. He grew out of it."  
   
"Yeah, okay," Harry said. There was a little pause, then he said, "I just never thought I'd feel sorry for Snape."  
   
That reminded Remus of another important piece of this equation. "How did Snape react when he found you'd seen all this?"  
   
And Harry answered, so casual, that Snape had called off Occlumency lessons entirely.  
   
"I'm coming up there to have a word with Snape!" Sirius declared, and actually started to stand up, as if he were about to dash off to Hogwarts that moment to give Snape a piece of his mind.  
   
Remus put a placating but firm hand on Sirius' shoulder and reminded everyone of where things stood. "If anyone's going to tell Snape it will be me. But Harry, first of all, you're to go back to Snape and tell him that on no account is he to stop giving you lessons – when Dumbledore hears –"  
   
"I can't tell him that, he'd kill me!" Harry argued.  
   
Remus, though, could practically see the spidery handwriting in front of his eyes. _Please ensure that Harry continues to study Occlumency. This grows ever more urgent._  
   
"Harry," he said, "There is nothing so important as you learning Occlumency! Do you understand me? Nothing!"  
   
"OK, OK," Harry said, annoyed and clearly not understanding. "I'll try and say something to him…but it won't be –" He stopped speaking and appeared to be listening for something. "Is that Kreacher coming downstairs?"  
   
"No, it must be somebody on your end," Sirius said.  
   
"I'd better go!" Harry gasped, and then his head was gone from the fire.  
   
Remus and Sirius both stared at the flames, returned to normal reds and oranges instead of emerald.  
   
"I was planning to go by the Hog's Head tomorrow anyway," Remus said, without looking at Sirius. "McGonagall was going to meet me, but I'll ask her to send Severus instead, and I'll talk to him. Please _don't_ go running up there. Please trust me. I've got this under control."  
   
Sirius jumped up and started pacing. "I know you do, I _know_ you do," he muttered. "But what do I do? When do I help? Am I seriously supposed to just sit here and watch?" He rounded on Remus, who was only just pulling himself to his feet and brushing off the knees of his trousers. "He's supposed to _help_ Harry, not put him in more danger!"  
   
"I know, but –"  
   
"What a fucking arrogant PRICK," Sirius raged, then stormed off up the stairs, likely to Buckbeak's room.  
   
Remus looked at the flames flickering lower in the fireplace, then at the doorway where Sirius had gone. Remus knew better than to try to follow him just now.  
   
He sighed and set himself back in front of the Department of Mysteries documents. That was all he could do for the time being, try to help them all be prepared.  
   
Remus lost track of time, but it must have been several hours later that a knock at the front door startled him from his work. His eyes went automatically to the kitchen clock, wondering who would be dropping by so late in the evening.  
   
When he went upstairs to see, he found Arthur Weasley standing on the front step, looking equal parts anxious and excited.  
   
"Remus!" he said. "I'm sorry, is it too late? Can I come in for a minute? Am I bothering you?"  
   
"No," Remus said, "Yes, I mean, no, come in."  
   
He stepped back to make room for Arthur, who asked, "Did you hear what happened?"  
   
Remus' mind went immediately to Hogwarts, and Harry's call. Was he in danger he hadn't mentioned? "No, what is it? What's happened?"  
   
Arthur saw that Remus' mind had jumped straight to worry and said, "Oh, it's nothing bad – that is, unless you ask Molly. Just our two most incorrigible sons, who've left school for good. And done it with characteristic flair, of course."  
   
"Oh," Remus said, now perplexed. He motioned Arthur towards the kitchen stairs, following after him. He offered Arthur a seat and rooted around in the cold cupboard for a Butterbeer, then offered that to Arthur as well.  
   
Arthur grinned and said, "Oh, well, sure. Ta, Remus."  
   
Remus settled himself back into the chair across from Arthur and asked, "Fred and George have left Hogwarts?"  
   
"Got themselves completely backed into a corner by Umbridge, then reclaimed their brooms, which she'd confiscated, and flew off into the sunset, if I've understood the thing right. We've had one very nasty owl from Umbridge and one nearly incomprehensible one from the boys, so that's the best I've been able to reconstruct it."  
   
"You haven’t seen them, then? Since they left?" Remus asked. He would never have wished for the Weasley twins to abandon their schooling this way, of course, but for the Order to have ready access to a student's perspective – well, a recent ex-student's perspective – on the situation at Hogwarts might not be a bad thing.  
   
"No." Arthur scratched his head. "They seem to have premises in Diagon Alley already, where they’re planning to open a new joke shop, and where they're living as of tonight. I'm not entirely sure how they got all that done so fast, frankly."  
   
"They're resourceful boys," Remus said. He hadn't quite figured out yet if Arthur was pleased or displeased, or mainly still in shock. "And how's Molly taken the news?" he asked with what he hoped was circumspect neutrality.  
   
Arthur raised his eyes from the drink in his hands and looked directly at Remus. "You know I love my wife more than anything, right? That she and the kids are the most important thing in the world to me, and I wouldn't want to live a day without them?"  
  
"Yes," Remus said, startled.  
   
"Then I hope you'll understand if I say that at this particular moment, she's driving me mad."  
   
For a second, Remus just stared at Arthur, then he couldn't help the laughter that burst out. "Oh – I'm so sorry –" he said. "I shouldn't laugh – "  
   
Arthur grinned, seeming to relax. "No, it's quite all right. You know Molly. You can imagine the volume of the shouting. And Fred and George aren't there in person to be shouted at, so…" He shrugged his shoulders. "I just needed to get out and take a breather for a few minutes. I hope you don't mind that I washed up here."  
   
"Of course not," Remus said, and he meant it. It was somehow quite nice to think that when the storm hit Arthur would come here.  
   
Remus pictured Molly in the kitchen of the Burrow, raging over her twins' incomplete Hogwarts education. Then he tried to picture the joke shop Fred and George would open, and found that mere imagination failed him. It was sure to be spectacular, at any rate.  
   
"You know the boys will be fine, don't you?" he asked Arthur. "They're very bright and resourceful, and I've never seen them let anything get in their way. I taught them for a year, remember, and I know they're beyond brilliant when they choose to bend both their minds to something."  
   
"That's certainly what I hope," Arthur said. "I know they're clever, but who's to say if they've got the business sense, the stamina to stick out the ups and downs…"  
   
"They do," said Remus. All the afternoon's stress and worry seemed to recede when he thought of Fred and George Weasley turning their formidable talents to a shop of their own. Diagon Alley wouldn't know what had hit it.  
   
Arthur stayed perhaps twenty minutes longer, then admitted it was time to go home and make another run at placating his wife.  
   
"Tell her what I said," Remus urged. "I really do think they'll be absolutely fine, even without N.E.W.T.s."  
   
"You know," Arthur agreed, "you, she just might listen to."  
   
Just before tamping down the kitchen fire for the night, Remus sent a message to Professor McGonagall, asking if she would instead send Snape to their meeting at the Hog's Head the next day.  
   
He scribbled the request on a slip of parchment and dropped it in the Floo, saying "Professor McGonagall's office at Hogwarts" as he did. It was a method of communication Dumbledore had recommended for messages that needed to travel more quickly than an owl could, but weren't really urgent enough to merit a Patronus. Applicable, of course, only for communications innocuous enough to stand up to the scrutiny surely being exercised on the Floo network.  
   
The next day, though, it was McGonagall waiting for him in a booth at the back of the Hog's Head.  
   
"Severus declined to come," she told Remus with a frown. "Is something the matter?"  
   
Remus weighed his options, but decided this particular problem was between Harry, Snape and Dumbledore. "No, it's all right," he said. "I'll send a message to Dumbledore about it."  
   
He slipped a note under his empty glass before he left, mentioning Snape's refusal to continue lessons with Harry and asking if there was anything he should do. Two days later, the answer he received when he next dropped by the Hog's Head, briefly and alone, came as a shock.  
   
 _If this is the case, and Harry is no longer receiving Occlumency instruction from Severus,_ the note read in Dumbledore's handwriting, _then we have entered the realm of back-up plans, and I feel I should inform you, Remus, of my suspicions. There has always been a danger that Voldemort would use the connection he shares with Harry; that once he discovered that connection, he would attempt to exploit it, even make Harry his unwitting spy against the Order._  
   
 _More and more, however, I begin to think Voldemort will not be content forever to simply mine information. At some point he may attempt to manipulate Harry and to make more active use of their connection. I cannot say for sure what form this would take. All I can ask is that you redouble your guard. Minerva already knows to keep Harry in her sight as much as possible, and to alert you or Alastor or myself if anything seems amiss._  
   
 _Share this knowledge discreetly, but as you see fit._  
   
 _It would be imprudent to give details here, but my research proceeds apace. Keep up hope and know that I appreciate your work._  
   
It concluded, as the notes always did, _Please destroy this letter._  
   
Remus sat, stunned.  
   
Voldemort might attempt to manipulate Harry? How? Into doing what? And what in Merlin's name were they meant to do to stop him?  
   
Remus finally roused himself from his seat when he realised that sitting alone with his gaze fixed on his drink was eventually going to draw unwanted attention. He stopped to gather his cloak around himself as he stepped out of the pub, more for a chance to pause and collect his thoughts than for protection against the mild evening air.  
   
The person he wanted to talk to was Kingsley, he realised. Not Moody, with his indubitable store of knowledge but dire outlook on the world; not even Tonks or Sirius, though he would tell them soon. Well, perhaps not Sirius. Remus would have to mull that one over, whether it would do more harm or good for Sirius to know this particular alarming piece of information. But right now Remus found he could do with Kingsley's unflappable calm, along with his expertise as an Auror.  
   
Remus checked his timeworn pocket watch and estimated Kingsley might just be arriving home. He Apparated, and caught the man arriving on his doorstep.  
   
"Remus!" Kingsley said, surprised. "Something urgent?"  
   
"Not urgent so much as…potentially urgent," Remus said.  
   
"Come in," Kingsley replied, without requiring further explanation. He unlocked his front door magically, and indicated Remus should step inside.  
   
"No security question?" Remus asked. He would have expected Kingsley of all people to follow security protocols to a T.  
   
"No need," Kingsley replied. "The protections I've set up are such that you only make it in the door if I've previously vetted you, and the spell can't be fooled by Polyjuice. I've got some strong Imperius detections up, too. In fact, if someone were controlling my actions, I'd be the first to know."  
   
"Ah," Remus said. It made sense that they all had their own personal preferences when it came their security at home. In fact, it was probably a good thing, since the variety made each iteration harder for an enemy to figure out.  
   
He hated that they had to think in those terms.  
   
"Anyway, I'm sure you're not here for a lecture on my security system," Kingsley said. "What can I do for you? Can I get you something to drink?"  
   
Remus noted the tired circles under Kingsley's eyes, despite his laidback manner, and said, "No, thank you, I'm just stopping by."  
   
Then he found that it was difficult, somehow, to voice what he had just learned. In the end, he put it as directly and simply as he could.  
   
"I've just heard from Dumbledore concerning his suspicion that Voldemort may try to exploit the mental connection we know he shares with Harry. I suppose it's not really new news, but the way he phrased it was startling – that Voldemort might try to 'manipulate' Harry, that he may try to control their connection more actively."  
   
Kingsley gave a slow nod as he hung up his cloak in the hallway. "Not surprising. Disquieting, of course, but not surprising."  
   
"The worst thing is not knowing what form it might take," Remus admitted.  
   
Kingsley turned to Remus again. "If it helps at all," he said, "think of it this way: Harry has people watching out for him all around him. Minerva and Severus are there for him at Hogwarts, we have Order members in Hogsmeade, here in London, at the Ministry… There's a reason Voldemort hasn't got to him yet, Remus, and it's not for lack of trying. Harry has the best possible guards – he has us."  
   
Remus managed a bit of a smile. "It sounds so much more manageable when you say it."  
   
"That's my job," Kingsley said, quite seriously. "Not making things sound manageable – actually making them so. Have you talked to Alastor yet?"  
   
"No," Remus said. "I'll go to him next."  
   
"He'll probably want us to station another guard in Hogsmeade," Kingsley said thoughtfully, "but you can tell him, for what it's worth, that I don't think it's necessary, since the Ministry has Aurors regularly patrolling there already. The Ministry collectively may have its head in the sand, but an Auror will still know how to recognise manifestations of Dark magic."  
   
"True," Remus said. "I'll tell him you said so."  
   
"And remember, Harry is safe as long as he stays at Hogwarts."  
   
"Yes," Remus said. "Then let's certainly hope he does."  
   
Kingsley reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. "Remus, you're doing a great job. You're really keeping things together, and you should know that we appreciate it."  
   
"Oh –" said Remus. "I'm not really – I mean, mostly Moody –"  
   
"Runs the practical side of things, yes. And you keep all the loose threads together."  
   
"I –" Remus struggled to find a way to express that he was not really doing as much good as everyone seemed to think he was doing, then gave up. "I'm doing my best."  
   
"That's all anyone can ask," Kingsley replied.  
  
  
– – – – –  
   
"It's my birthday tomorrow," Tonks said from behind her paperwork, sitting next to where Remus was resting on her sofa. It had been an anxious few days, as he grappled with Dumbledore's newly revealed suspicions, but as always Tonks was the force that kept him steady.  
   
Remus jerked upright, and Tonks gently pushed him back down. "I'm so sorry," he said, "I did know that, but with everything going on – why didn't you say something sooner?"  
   
"I didn't say anything on purpose, because I don't need a big fuss made over me."  
   
"Oh, as if you didn't make a big fuss over _me_ , with the cake and the surprise gathering…"  
   
She just smiled and waggled her head at him. "That's because you need a good fuss made over you now and again. But I’m a doted-upon only child and I’ve had more than my share of being fussed over, believe me. This year I’d like it to be a quiet thing. I've convinced Mum and Dad to come over to Headquarters in the evening tomorrow, because I want Sirius there too. So, just you and me and Sirius and Mum and Dad. Do you think that will be all right with Sirius?"  
   
"Of course it'll be all right. I know he'll be glad."  
   
It was a good thing, though, that Andromeda had brought Ted along to visit Sirius once before, because finagling a way now to get the address from Dumbledore to give to Ted would have been next to impossible. Good, Sirius would have a little company, and Tonks would get to spend some time with her family. Then a new thought made Remus flop back onto the sofa cushion beneath his head with a groan.  
   
"What is it?" Tonks asked.  
   
"Andromeda is going to grill me, isn't she?"  
   
"Grill you? About what?"  
   
"You know – us."  
   
"No, she won't! She won't say a thing."  
   
"You don't understand, she'll grill me with her eyes. She doesn't have to say a word."  
   
There was a pause, then Tonks burst out laughing. "You know what? I know exactly the look you mean." She leaned back against the sofa. "Oh, woe, poor Remus. Always suffering the whims of Blacks."  
   
"You don't know the half of it," he said, but they were both smiling.  
   
– – – – –  
   
All in all, it was a lovely evening. The five of them had dinner together in the basement kitchen (Remus cooked), with candles in the wall sconces around the table making the room cosy. After the meal, Andromeda finally revealed the birthday cake she'd been keeping magically concealed.  
   
It was a complex confection of multiple layers and subtly shifting shades, a fairy tale castle of a cake. Remus vaguely remembered this, that Andromeda had always had a deft hand with this sort of whimsical confection, although it made such an unlikely contrast to her otherwise no-nonsense personality.  
   
"Oh, _Mum_ ," Tonks breathed.  
   
"Happy birthday, sweetheart," Andromeda said. "We're so proud of you. We may not always agree with your choices, and admittedly, there are times you leave us worrying for your safety more than we'd like –"  
   
Ted grinned and put a hand on his wife's arm. "What your mother is trying to say, though I wouldn't blame you if you can't tell, is that we love you unconditionally and everything you do makes us proud."  
   
"Yes, something precisely like that," Andromeda said, with a wry smile at her own expense. "Come on, make a wish and blow out your candles."  
   
Tonks did, then got Andromeda to dish up enormous slices of the cake for each of them, insisting she'd only make a mess if she tried to do it herself.  
   
"Delicious, Andromeda," Remus said, as they dug in. "I’d forgotten you had such a talent at this."  
   
"Too bad it's not genetic," Tonks said, but she didn't look like she particularly minded.  
   
"Who says it's not?" Sirius retorted. "Maybe you're the only one it skipped."  
   
Tonks raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh? Because you're an expert baker now?"  
   
"For all we know I _could_ be. In fact, maybe I _am_ , you just don't know because I haven't bothered to bake anything yet."  
   
Tonks rolled her eyes, and Remus smiled to see both of them joking and happy. Tonks knew about Dumbledore's message and Sirius didn't, and Remus still didn't know if that was the right decision.  
   
"So what do you think of your little cousin now she's all grown up, Sirius?" Ted asked. "Have we done all right by her?"  
   
"I'd say," Sirius replied. Remus, who'd been expecting a witty comeback, was surprised to see he looked pensive. "I never even thought I'd be around long enough to see her make it out of childhood, and now look at her, with more sense than the rest of us put together."  
   
Predictably, Tonks blushed.  
   
"No need to get sentimental on us, old man," Remus teased. He hoped Sirius would recognise the comment as a joking echo of what Sirius had said at Remus' own birthday, and he saw by Sirius' hint of a smile that he did.  
   
As Ted and Andromeda were clearing the plates away, Remus found an opportunity to put a hand on Sirius' shoulder and say quietly, "I still feel bad that we didn't do anything for yours."  
   
Sirius shook his head. "I told you, Moony. No birthdays until I'm truly free."  
   
Remus knew he couldn't argue.  
   
"Presents!" Ted announced, and with a wave of his wand, a small pile of them appeared on the table in front of Tonks.  
   
There was a Quidditch book and a pair of high-quality flying gloves from Sirius (Remus knew Andromeda had done the actual shopping, to Sirius' obsessively precise specifications).  
   
Then, from Andromeda and Ted, a couple of Dark Detectors that had Tonks in raptures of delight. Remus smiled again, thinking what a wonderful Defence Against the Dark Arts student she must have been, even though he knew Andromeda and Ted had more practical reasons for their choice of gifts than simply indulging their daughter's love of all things Defence.  
   
Remus himself was still debating the wisdom of giving her the present he had chosen, but now that the moment was here, he realised there had never really been any question.  
   
"Sorry, mine is still upstairs," he said. "You'll have to wait a moment while I get it."  
   
He noticed Andromeda's gaze flick between him and her daughter, but she had refrained all evening from grilling Remus – even with her eyes – and he was grateful.  
   
Remus dashed up to the bedroom he used at Grimmauld Place and fetched his small gift, wrapped in simple brown paper. Then he hurried back down to the ground floor, but paused in the doorway at the top of the stairs to the kitchen, just to steady himself for a moment.  
   
To his surprise, Tonks emerged out of the dark a few steps below him.  
   
"Hey," she said. "I thought I'd come see where you'd gone. Are you coming back downstairs?"  
   
"Perhaps I could give this to you here," Remus said, holding out the little paper-wrapped package.  
   
She came up the last few steps to him, but the doorway was too narrow for both of them to stand in without bumping into each other.  
   
Tonks laughed. "How about in the dining room?"  
   
He followed her across the hall to the dining room, where they stopped inside the doorway. Soft light fell into the room from the old lamps that lined the hallway.  
   
Remus' throat felt dry as he held out the package again. "You're going to say this is too much," he told her. "And you don't have to take it if you don't want to. But I'd like you to have it."  
   
She looked at him quizzically, but accepted the gift he placed in the palm of her hand. Gently, she undid the paper to reveal a small gold locket. "It's lovely," she said, but he could tell by the way she looked at him that she knew that wasn't the whole story.  
   
"It was my mother's," he said.  
   
"Oh, Remus –"  
   
"I was trying to think what I could give you, and I knew you wouldn't want me to spend money just for the sake of doing something, but doing nothing wasn't right either. And as silly as it might sound to say it, I think she would have wanted you to have this. But I understand if you think it's inappropriate, if it’s too much, I know I probably shouldn't –"  
   
Tonks looped her free hand around the back of his neck and silenced him with a kiss, their first in very many weeks, then whispered, "Thank you. I'm honoured." She drew back and studied the locket, its delicate chain pooled in her hand. "Oh, but I can't wear this, I'll _break_ it."  
   
Remus smiled. "Good thing it's got an Unbreakable Charm on it, then. My mother was nothing if not prepared for all eventualities."  
   
Tonks smiled back, then looked down at her hand again. "What was she like? Would we have got on?"  
   
"I think so. She could be a tough nut to crack at times, but she was a deeply good person."  
   
"Like someone I know."  
   
Remus blinked at her.  
   
"Here," she said. "Would you help me put it on?"  
   
She offered the locket back to Remus, then turned away. He opened the clasp, looped the chain carefully around her neck, and fastened it.  
   
Tonks turned to face him again, her eyes watching his face to see what he thought now that he saw the necklace on her. Remus reached out and touched the locket with one finger. It seemed already to have warmed to her body heat.  
   
"Happy twenty-third," he said. "That's a number I've always been partial to."  
   
"Is _not_. You just made that up!"  
   
"No, truly…"  
   
She laughed and shook her head. "Remus?"  
   
"Yes?"  
  
"I'm glad you're here."  
   
"And I'm so glad to know you. You've made my life richer by far, but you know that."  
   
They looked at each other a moment longer, then Tonks asked, her voice hesitant now, "Can I – just maybe one more time –?"  
   
Remus reached out and pulled her in, and kissed her. Tonks sighed and kissed him back, then rested her head against his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her.  
   
"This is nice, isn't it?" she murmured into his shoulder. "I'm not going to think about it too hard, just for tonight, all right? This is nice." Then she snorted. "Also, though, can you imagine the conversation my parents are going to have when they get home tonight? All the speculation? Mum'll be going wild, trying to figure us out."  
   
"And yet your mother has exercised admirable restraint tonight," Remus said into her hair.  
   
He felt Tonks laugh against his shoulder. "Let's keep 'em guessing, Remus."  
   
He smiled. "All right."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because this chapter mentions Remus' mum, I thought I'd mention that she gets a story of her own here: "[Hold Tight and Almost Believe](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1167206)."


	17. The Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next-to-last chapter of Part 1! I'll post the final chapter of Part 1 post in about two weeks, and at that point I'll let you know how it's looking in terms of when I'll be able to start posting Part 2 (which covers the HBP year).
> 
> And it hurts even to have to say it, but: Warning for major character death in this chapter. (But if you've read OotP, obviously that's not exactly a surprise.)

 

 _You are my brother and my friend_  
_Everywhere I go, everywhere I go_  
_You are my brother and my friend_  
  
_–Richie Stearns, Everywhere I Go_  
  
 

  
Sirius came back downstairs once he’d finally managed to splint Buckbeak's wing. He’d spent a solid couple of hours wrestling with the angry, injured Hippogriff and cursing under his breath over Kreacher, who’d undoubtedly caused the mischief. So when he found a note fluttering in front of the kitchen fireplace, it was impossible to say how long it had been there. Sirius snatched up the parchment. It bore Snape's unmistakeable handwriting and simply read, "Floo me. Now."  
   
Snape's presumption made Sirius want to spit, but it wasn't as if he could disobey. He grabbed a handful of Floo powder, said, "Snape's office, Hogwarts," and stuck his head into the fire.  
   
"Snape," he said, and the man turned from his desk to the fireplace.  
   
"Ah, Sirius," Snape said. "How good to see you looking alive and well. You are in fact alive and well, I presume, and this is not merely your disembodied head talking to me?"  
   
"What do you want, Snape?" Sirius ground out.  
   
"I thought it would be prudent to check on you, since your dear godson seems to be under the impression the Dark Lord has somehow managed to take you to, and I quote, 'the place where it's hidden.' Likely meaning the Department of Mysteries, at least if Potter has been clever enough to figure out the significance of that place, which is debatable."  
   
" _What?_ " Sirius cried.  
   
"I said, your godson seems to be under the impression –"  
   
"I heard what you _said_. What the hell do you mean? How do you know this? What did Harry say?"  
   
"Umbridge caught him trying to use the Floo in her office, likely to contact you, and called me in. Potter seemed distressed and gave me that message."  
   
"When?"  
   
"Perhaps an hour ago."  
   
"And you waited until now to make contact!"  
   
"No," said Snape scornfully. "I sent a Patronus immediately to check that you were in fact in the house. It's not my fault it took you until now to come back to the Floo."  
   
So Sirius hadn't imagined that flash of silver out of the corner of his eye as he'd been tending to Buckbeak. Why hadn't Snape sent a message then, with the Patronus, and saved them all an hour?  
   
"Where is Harry now?" Sirius demanded.  
   
"He's disappeared into the Forbidden Forest with Umbridge and that Muggleborn friend of his, Granger. Believe me, Black, I am monitoring the situation and will inform you if he doesn't return in a timely fashion. Trust Potter to run off and try to do something stupid and heroic."  
   
Sirius could barely get words out past his mounting rage. " _Find him._ "  
   
"I fully intend to do so, now that I no longer have to wait here for you to return my Floo."  
   
"Why not a Patronus?" Sirius snapped. "Why Floo? You know this connection could be monitored at any time, don't you?"  
   
"Doubtful, seeing as I haven't been foolish enough to get on Dolores Umbridge's bad side. But if you're nervous about it, you'd best be going, hadn't you? Wouldn't want to be putting ourselves in danger."  
   
"Find Harry," Sirius spat at him. "If you don't, I'm coming up there and doing it myself. And afterwards I _might_ be able to restrain myself from hexing you into oblivion for letting him out of your sight."  
   
"Temper, Black," Snape said dangerously. "And now I have a job to do, so if you don't mind, shoo."  
   
Sirius pulled his head out of the fireplace, heart pounding with rage. Harry thought Voldemort had kidnapped him, Sirius? How? Why? What the hell was going on? The panic rising in his throat was choking him. He paced the length of the kitchen twice, trying to calm himself. He was no use to Harry if he was panicking.  
   
He stopped again in front of the fireplace, its flames now gone cold, and pressed the heels of his palms hard against his eyes.  
   
Then he sent for the person he always called on when things got bad: Remus.  
– – – – –  
   
"Sirius, slow down," Remus said. He felt as pale as Sirius looked. "I'm barely catching half of what you're saying."  
   
Sirius started pacing again. "It must be some kind of trick," he said. "Is it some sort of vision again? Can Voldemort plant visions in his head of things that aren't even happening?"  
   
"This must be what Dumbledore was afraid of," Remus muttered.  
   
Sirius rounded on him. "What do you mean? What did Dumbledore tell you?"  
   
Remus sighed and raked his hands through his hair, leaning back against the edge of the kitchen table. His attempt at prudence on matters where Sirius, danger and Harry were concerned was about to come back and bite him. "Dumbledore suspected Voldemort might try to exploit his connection with Harry. Manipulate him in some way. He didn't know precisely how."  
   
"Dumbledore said that?"  
   
"In a note he left me at the Hog's Head, yes."  
   
"You _knew_ this might happen?"  
   
"Not precisely this!"  
   
Sirius looked ready to punch a wall. Or a person. Probably Remus. "And you didn't tell me! What the hell, Remus!"  
   
Remus dropped his hands to his sides. "Sirius, I understand you're angry with me, but can we focus on Harry, please?"  
   
Sirius took a deep breath, and with effort relaxed his clenched fists. "Yes, all right. Yes."  
   
"You said Snape told you Harry tried to pass on a message. And that it seemed to indicate he thought Voldemort had taken you to the Department of Mysteries."  
   
"Apparently, yes."  
   
"And it seemed Harry had experienced some sort of vision that made him think this?"  
   
"No idea. That's all Snape said. What good does that even do Voldemort? Aside from scaring Harry?"  
   
"And since then, Harry has disappeared?"  
   
Sirius moaned.  
   
"Sirius. Focus."  
   
"Yes. Into the Forest, with Umbridge. Snape _says_ he'll look for him. You don't think Harry's actually trying to get to the Ministry, do you?"  
   
"Let's rule that out for the moment, since I can't imagine how he would get there from Hogwarts on his own. Besides, the Ministry will be full of people, not to mention there will be someone from the Order guarding outside the Department of Mysteries, if it comes to that."  
   
"Who's on guard right now? Can we check?"  
   
"Good idea," Remus admitted. "Moody knows the schedule. Should I get him over here?"  
   
Having to make concrete decisions seemed to steady Sirius. "Yes. And maybe a couple others. Just in case…just in case someone needs to go after him."  
   
"Kingsley?"  
   
"Yeah. And Tonks."  
   
Remus looked at him in surprise. "Dora?"  
   
"She should be here."  
   
– – – – –  
   
Remus' Patronus simply said, _"Please come to Headquarters as soon as you can."_  
   
Tonks had only just got home from work, but she stepped straight back outside again and Apparated to the alley near 12 Grimmauld Place.  
   
She'd only seen Remus a couple times since her birthday, barely more than in passing, and he always seemed tense. She knew he was worried: about Sirius, who was edgier than ever, prowling the house looking morbid and watchful; and about Harry, now sitting his O.W.L.s at Hogwarts, where just last night Hagrid had been sacked and McGonagall Stunned – by _Aurors_ – so badly that she was now recuperating in St Mungo's.  
   
If Tonks refrained from thinking the world was falling to pieces, it was only because thinking about it too much made it seem even worse.  
   
She hurried up to the house and Remus met her inside the doorway, his face drawn.  
   
"What's the matter?" she asked, alarmed by the look of him.  
   
He closed the door behind her, then reached out and gripped both Tonks’ arms. "Do you remember I told you that Snape refused to keep teaching Harry, and Dumbledore admitted he was worried what might happen to Harry without Occlumency lessons?"  
   
"Yes, of course. What's happened?"  
   
He dropped his hands again, seeming to realise how hard he’d been gripping her. "Nothing, nothing, just a…strange report from Snape. Harry seems to have had some sort of vision, or false message, we're not sure what. But he seems to believe that Voldemort has kidnapped Sirius, and now Harry and Hermione have disappeared. Snape is trying to find them. They were last seen going into the Forbidden Forest."  
   
Tonks stared at him. "So do we need to go to the Forbidden Forest to look for them?"  
   
"Possibly. Except we think Harry may also try to get to the Ministry, that he might believe Sirius is being held there. Apparently, he told Snape that Voldemort had Sirius in 'the place where it's hidden,' which might be a reference to the Department of Mysteries, or it might not…" Remus shoved his hands through his hair, frustrated. "We're right now trying to figure out what to do. Moody and Kingsley are here too."  
   
That, at least, was a relief. As dearly as Tonks cared about both Remus and Sirius, they were ruled by emotion where Harry was concerned. Mad-Eye and Kingsley, though, would be working out a clear-headed plan even as they spoke.  
   
As if he'd heard her thoughts, Remus seemed forcibly to calm himself. "I'm sorry, I'm just worked up. Or Sirius' anxiety is rubbing off on me. Or both. Come on, they're all downstairs."  
   
"So, do we contact Dumbledore?" Moody was asking as they entered the kitchen. He looked up and gave Tonks a brief nod, then returned his attention to the others. Kingsley was at the table with him, while Sirius was pacing.  
   
"Yes," Sirius answered, to Moody’s question.  
   
"He did ask us to send a Patronus only in an emergency," Remus put in fairly, as he and Tonks approached the table.  
   
"What do you call this?" Sirius asked.  
   
"I'm inclined to agree, if Harry doesn't come back within a reasonable amount of time," Kingsley said.  
   
"What's a reasonable amount?" Sirius demanded, coming to a halt by the table.  
   
"Let's give it half an hour," Kingsley said. "Snape is supposed to look for him and then get in touch by Floo, right?"  
   
Sirius resumed his pacing. "Why can't he just send a Patronus like a normal person?" he growled. "Probably can't even produce one. It's not as if he'd have any happy memories to use for it."  
   
"I thought you said he sent one while –" Remus began, but Sirius shot him a look that seemed to quell him.  
   
"Sirius, sit _down_ ," Moody snapped, and to Tonks' amazement, Sirius obeyed.  
   
She and Remus likewise took seats at the table, and they all looked at each other.  
   
"All right," Moody said, "Let's think logically here for a moment before we go in with wands blazing. What do we think Voldemort wants with Harry? Is he after the Prophecy?"  
   
Remus nodded. "It makes the most sense of anything. Who's guarding the Department of Mysteries this evening?"  
   
"Should be Hestia Jones. Took over from Dedalus Diggle at five o'clock," Moody said.  
   
Kingsley suggested, "So, we stop by there first, check that Hestia is still guarding the door. Maybe leave one more person with her as reinforcement, just in case. Then we need to figure out where to start looking for Harry –"  
   
Just then, the fireplace sprang to life. They all jumped up and hurried to crowd around it, as Snape's head appeared. His lips were pressed tightly together, and it occurred to Tonks that the usually sneering Snape might actually be concerned.  
   
"They're still missing," he said, "as are both Weasley children, Longbottom, and a girl called Lovegood. I believe they have found some way to leave the Forbidden Forest, and are headed to the Ministry."  
   
Tonks heard Remus breathe in sharply next to her.  
  
"We'll go there now," said Moody.  
   
"We'll all go," Tonks agreed.  
   
"Does Dumbledore know?" Kingsley asked.  
   
"I've alerted him and he should be on his way now," Snape said. "He'll come to Headquarters first, so Black should make himself useful for once and stay there to fill him in, whilst the rest of you go to the Ministry. I will continue to search here."  
   
Sirius started up angrily, but Remus put a hand on his arm, a gesture that seemed to say, _Now's not the time._  
   
"Thank you, Snape," Moody was saying. "This is invaluable information."  
   
Snape just nodded and broke the Floo connection.  
   
Sirius muttered something that sounded like, "Kreacher," and disappeared up the stairs to the main floors of the house.  
   
Tonks looked at Moody. "Ministry employees' entrance? By Floo?"  
   
Moody nodded. "Shacklebolt and I will go now and get the lay of the land. You two follow us in five minutes. Tonks, if you keep hold of Lupin, you should be able to get him in through the employees' Floo."  
   
Tonks nodded. Moody took a pinch of Floo powder, threw it into the fireplace and said, "Ministry of Magic." He stepped through and disappeared. Kingsley followed.  
   
Tonks looked at Remus and Remus looked at Tonks.  
   
"This may come to a battle," Remus said.  
   
"I know," Tonks said. In a sense, she’d always known. This was what they were here for, after all. She looked up into Remus’ face, because she very much needed him to understand this about her, and said, "And I plan on being there for it."  
   
He gazed back at her and said, "I know."  
   
Then he reached out to her and Tonks stepped into his arms, tilting her face up until her lips met his, allowing herself that comfort for a small moment.  
   
"I'm coming with you. Does that mean I get a kiss, too?" Sirius' voice came from behind them, from the foot of the stairs.  
   
Remus spun around, his hand still at Tonks' waist. "Sirius – you can't! You need to stay and explain to Dumbledore when he gets here."  
   
"I've ordered Kreacher to tell him everything. There's no reason to stay."  
   
"But if anyone at the Ministry sees you –"  
   
Sirius glowered. "Then I will Obliviate them. Harry's in trouble, and he's in trouble because he's trying to protect _me_. You really think I'm just going to sit here?"  
   
"But –"  
   
"And I'm not going to stand here and argue about it with you. So get a fucking move on, Moony."  
   
Tonks saw Remus fighting with himself, wanting to protect Harry and to protect Sirius and knowing it wasn’t possible to do both. "Let him go," she murmured, and finally Remus gave a tight nod.  
   
"Come on," he said.  
   
Tonks threw more Floo powder into the fire, said "Ministry of Magic," and grabbed both Remus and Sirius by the arm. "Elbows in," she said. "I don't think I've ever tried to Side-Along two at once before."  
   
Together, they squeezed into the fireplace, and immediately they were whizzing past other hearths, Tonks holding on hard to the two men to keep them with her. She stumbled as the Floo deposited them in the Ministry Atrium, and Remus steadied her.  
   
Moody and Kingsley were waiting for them in front of the fireplace, wands out. Aside from them, the Atrium was disquietingly empty.  
   
"Identify yourselves!" Moody demanded.  
   
"Nymphadora Tonks, Metamorphmagus. My first day of Auror training, you told me I wouldn't last the week. And I vouch for these two, they've been in physical contact with me the whole way here."  
   
Moody raised an eyebrow at Sirius' presence, but didn't comment on it. Instead, he replied to Tonks, "And you reminded me of that comment almost every day for the next three years. I vouch for Shacklebolt as well, he's been with me the entire time." Moody lowered his wand, but didn't put it away. "Even the watchwizard is gone."  
   
"Imperiused? Abducted?" Tonks asked. There was no sign of dead bodies, at least.  
   
Kingsley answered, "Could be either. Or everyone who's meant to be on duty could be just down the hall, Charmed into forgetting they're meant to be here. But it doesn't matter right now – we need to get down to the Department of Mysteries. Harry and his friends might be down there, or Voldemort and his Death Eaters, or both."  
   
"Tonks and I take point, Lupin and Black in the middle and Shacklebolt guards the rear," Moody said, and no one argued. They set off towards the lifts in the formation he'd ordered, and rode one level down in eerie silence.  
   
"Department of Mysteries," said the lift announcer's voice, and the grilles slid open. They started down the corridor nearly at a run.  
   
The door to the Department of Mysteries was open.  
   
"Oh no," Tonks breathed.  
   
Kingsley felt around in the empty space beside the door; Tonks had only just realised what he was doing when his hand made contact and came away with an Invisibility Cloak bunched in his fist.  
   
On the floor was the inert form of Hestia Jones.  
   
Kingsley felt for her pulse. "Alive," he said shortly, then pointed his wand and said, " _Rennervate_."  
   
Nothing happened.  
   
" _Rennervate,_ " Kingsley repeated, then shook his head. "She doesn't seem to be in imminent danger, but I can't wake her. We'll have to come back for her."  
   
Moody nodded, and Kingsley covered Hestia carefully in the Cloak again, then stood up and faced the rest of them. "Ready?"  
   
They looked at each other and nodded. Sirius was nearly vibrating with energy, like a hunting dog finally about to be set after its prey. Remus looked grave but determined. Moody was vigilant as ever. Kingsley radiated calm and capability. Tonks wondered what she looked like.  
   
"Who's been in there before?" Moody asked.  
   
"Just once," Kingsley said.  
   
The rest of them shook their heads.  
   
"I've been a couple times," Moody said. "Long while ago. First there's an entrance room designed to disorientate you, but most of the rooms inside connect with one another sooner or later." He motioned them forward and one by one they stepped through the door, into a circular black stone room with blue-flame candles mounted on its curved walls between a number of identical doors that ran all the way around it.  
   
"We assume Potter's gone to the Hall of Prophecy?" Moody asked, but didn't wait for an answer. "We'll split into two groups. Both try to reach the Hall; if one group finds it, try to get a message to the other. I'll take Lupin; Black, you go with Shacklebolt and Tonks. Clear?"  
   
They nodded.  
   
"Door, close," Moody commanded. The door they had come through swung shut, and the room itself began to spin. Caught unprepared, and never an expert in the balance department anyway, Tonks lurched awkwardly into Sirius' side, then felt Remus' hand, steadying her again. She reached out and gave his arm a squeeze under the cover of the near-darkness, glad he was there.  
   
The room stopped spinning. "Any door," Moody said. "We'll take this one." He reached out and pushed against a door, which swung open. Tonks could just see something glittering inside as Moody stepped over the threshold without a backward glance.  
   
Remus glanced back once, right at Tonks, then followed him.  
   
The door swung shut behind them and once again the circular room spun, then stopped.  
   
"Okay," said Sirius. "Let's go get those bastards." He sounded energised, and Tonks thought again how the only times he'd seemed fully alive in the last months were during the Order’s duelling practices, deep in the basement at Grimmauld Place. Gone was the ragged ball of nerves who’d been pacing the kitchen not half an hour ago. This Sirius was in control and ready to fight.  
   
Tonks looked to Kingsley, sensing him to be the unofficial leader of their little band. "Does it matter which door?"  
   
He shrugged. "Here," he said, and pushed against the door that was closest.  
   
All Tonks could see inside was blackness. Kingsley extended his wand arm, took a cautious step over the threshold – and disappeared.  
   
"Kingsley!" Tonks shouted. Sirius gripped her shoulder.  
   
"Here," Kingsley called back, his voice seeming to come from above them. Tonks moved as close to the door as she dared and tried to peer upwards into the darkness. "I'm floating," Kingsley explained, though she still couldn't see him. "Tonks, can you reach out your arm?"  
   
She did so, keeping her feet planted outside the doorway and stretching into the room as far as she dared. After a moment, she felt Kingsley grasp her hand.  
   
"Can you pull?" he asked next.  
   
Sirius moved closer and grabbed Kingsley's hand as well, and together they pulled him back in.  
   
Back on firm footing inside the circular entry room, Kingsley shook his head. "We could probably get through, if we all held onto each other and found something solid to push off from, but I think we'll make quicker progress through another room. Let's try again."  
  
He allowed the door to close, and the room to spin again.  
   
Tonks held her breath as Kingsley stepped carefully through another door, but nothing unexpected happened, so she and Sirius followed him in.  
   
They found themselves in a long, large, but otherwise unremarkable room. The lighting was low and pleasant, the ceiling high enough to make the room feel spacious, but not so high as to take away its human scale. Small desks stood at regular intervals, a variety of objects on them. It seemed to be quite the random assortment – Tonks even caught sight of a few Muggle things, like a toaster.  
   
The only notable feature about the room was a pleasant sort of warm tingling Tonks could feel in her arms and legs, increasing the longer she stood there.  
   
Then she looked at Kingsley and saw that he was glowing.  
   
"Kingsley–!" she cried.  
   
Sirius stepped out from behind Tonks, and now she saw that he was glowing too.  
   
But "glowing" wasn't the right word. This was nothing so intense as a fire or a Muggle light bulb, it was more a sort of…aura, a gently shimmering light that seemed to emanate from within the two men. Sirius' wand arm was raised, and the light was strongest there, so bright and clearly defined it almost looked like something you could reach out and touch.  
   
Tonks thought she’d never seen anything so beautiful.  
   
Sirius was staring at her in wonder, and Tonks looked down and saw her body was giving off the same shimmer. She raised her wand and the light seemed to follow her, arcing through the air as her arm moved.  
   
"It's magic," Kingsley said, his voice softer than Tonks had ever heard it. "I heard once that they had a room like this. Where you can see magic."  
   
Tonks looked around and realised the objects on the tables were shimmering too. Magical items like wands and cauldrons gave off the brightest light. The toaster barely glowed at all.  
   
"We can go through this one, can't we?" Sirius whispered, seeming not to want to break the peace of the room, but his focus still firmly on their task. "There should be another door somewhere that leads on?"  
   
Kingsley nodded. "We'll just keep on through the different chambers until we find ourselves where we want to be."  
   
They set off down the length of the room, Tonks marvelling at the wondrously shimmering objects she passed, and even more at the two wondrously shimmering men ahead of her. She'd never known magic was so beautiful.  
   
They were halfway to the far end of the room, where they could now see another door, when Moody's raven Patronus swooped down near them and muttered, " _No sign of them in the Hall, but I hear a struggle in the Death Chamber. Follow this Patronus there._ "  
   
The Patronus flew straight towards the door ahead of them, and all three of them broke into a sprint, pounding through the door and down the corridor they found behind it. Several more doors were set along the corridor. Moody's Patronus swooped directly at one of them, then disintegrated.  
   
 Kingsley slammed into the door and flung it open, Sirius and Tonks on his heels, just as Remus and Moody burst into the same room from a door opposite.  
   
It was a large, rectangular, dimly lit space, a sort of amphitheatre with steep stone steps leading down to a low stone dais with an archway at its centre. Everywhere Tonks looked, there were Death Eaters, nearly a dozen of them – and Harry was there, on the dais, with another boy his age, who was gasping at the feet of a woman Tonks had never met but recognised the moment she laid eyes on her.  
   
There was no need for discussion – this was what they had trained for. The five of them spread out, moving down the stone steps and firing curses as they went. Tonks sent a Stunner at Lucius Malfoy to start with, which missed by a hair but was enough to make him stumble.  
   
At least Harry and his friend seemed to be managing to stay low for the moment, as the melee of Order members and Death Eaters coalesced into something roughly resembling a collection of individual duels. Tonks directed all her attention at the woman she'd recognised as her aunt, feeling anger pump through her veins.  
   
_You tried to kill my mother_ , she thought. _You tried to kill me._  
   
"Stupefy!" she shouted, advancing on this woman who looked too damn much like her mum. "Impedimenta! Stupefy!" Tonks knew she needed to slow down and aim with more intention, but just for a moment, she allowed herself to fire out of anger rather than good training.  
   
"Protego," Bellatrix drawled, parrying with ease. "And Protego again. Can't you do better than that, dear niece?"  
   
"Laedunto!" Tonks cried, and was gratified to see Bellatrix flinch with pain.  
   
"Funiculus," Bellatrix snapped, and Tonks had to duck as twisting strands of rope flew at her.  
   
"Confundo," Tonks tried, but of course Bellatrix was too strong for that.  
   
"Oh, look at the little baby, trying to duel like the _gwown-ups_ ," Bellatrix cooed, in an ugly approximation of a child’s voice, from where she stood a few steps below Tonks.  
   
Tonks aimed squarely and said, "Locomotor Mortis."  
   
Bellatrix stumbled slightly, and performed the counter-curse on herself. "Childish jinxes," she hissed.  
   
"Petrificus Totalus!" Tonks responded.  
   
Bellatrix leaned out of the way, then aimed a Reductor curse at Tonks, who jumped to the side. A chunk blasted off the stone step beside her.  
   
"Careful, cousin," Sirius murmured as he ducked by.  
   
"Always am," Tonks replied without taking her eyes off Bellatrix, but she reached out her non-wand hand and gave Sirius' arm a squeeze, as he passed by and leapt to the step above her. She was glad he was here.  
   
"How sweet, a family reunion," Bellatrix sneered. "Tell me, will my blood-traitor sister be coming too?" Then without warning, she slashed downward with her wand and shouted, "Sectumsempra!"  
   
Tonks dodged, but felt something burn across her right shoulder. "You're going have to do better than that!" she said.  
   
Bellatrix smiled nastily, stalking closer. "Oh, when I'm aiming to kill, you'll know it…dear. Reducto!"  
   
Tonks dodged again, but as she did, she saw Moody on the floor, his head bleeding. _Concentrate,_ she told herself fiercely, and aimed another Stunner at Bellatrix.  
   
"He's fine, Dora!" she heard Remus call. From her peripheral vision, she saw him bending over Moody's form.  
   
_Thank you, Remus_ , she thought, but didn't want to distract either of them further by saying it aloud.  
   
She was finally falling into a rhythm with Bellatrix, anticipating her hexes sooner, parrying instinctively. That was the mark of a good duellist, of course, being able to judge and anticipate one's partner, rather than shooting off spells at random. But also – and it was awful even to think it – fighting Bellatrix felt oddly familiar. She moved the way Tonks' mum and Sirius did, with that certain Black family bearing they never seemed to lose.  
   
Tonks heard Sirius shout at one point, then a scuffle behind her, but no one seemed to be hurt so she kept her focus on Bellatrix. She cast a nonverbal Impediment Jinx, but Bellatrix moved even faster, whirling around behind Tonks and calling "Crucio!" with an almost lazy flick of her wand.  
   
Tonks spun and increased her pace too, Conjuring a net around Bellatrix, but Bellatrix shook it off with a laugh.  
   
"How _is_ your dear mum?" Bellatrix purred as she danced away. "It's been so long since we had a nice chat. Twenty-three years or so, hasn’t it been?"  
   
Tonks fought down her rage, because rage would not help her fight a smart battle. "How's Voldemort?" she retorted, knowing the use of his name would get to Bellatrix. "Isn't it a pity he didn't even bother to turn up here for his own party?"  
   
"Where the Dark Lord is is no concern of yours," Bellatrix snapped, tossing in an Impediment Jinx of her own, as if in afterthought.  
   
"You must like him an awful lot, if you're willing to do all his dirty work for him," Tonks pressed, probing for lines of verbal attack that would rile Bellatrix.  
   
"My loyalty to the Dark Lord goes beyond anything you could understand, little girl. Anyone following that old fool at Hogwarts can't imagine what it is to stand at the right hand of true power."  
   
"Oh, 'cause you think Voldemort's got power, do you?"  
  
  
"If you speak of him, you'll do so with respect!"  
   
"What, Voldemort? You don't like me saying the name Voldemort?"  
   
"How dare you speak his name with your dirty half-blood lips!" Bellatrix shrieked, and Tonks cast the most powerful Stunner she could and thought she'd finally got the upper hand.  
   
But Bellatrix ducked, moving faster than Tonks would have thought possible, and Tonks' red jet of light sizzled against the floor where she had stood.  
   
Bellatrix spun and straightened up in a single motion, screaming, "Confringo!" as she came. There was an enormous crashing and crumbling of stone, and the last thing Tonks saw was a chunk of rock flying at her.  
   
– – – – –  
   
Remus saw Tonks fall, a painfully drawn out motion as she flopped from step to step down the side of the stone amphitheatre, and everything in him seized up. For one horrible second he froze completely, unable to move, unable to think anything but, _Dora!_  
   
But freezing up in battle was unacceptable, pausing for even a second’s worth of fear and grief was not an option. He had to keep fighting, and he had to get to Harry. It hadn’t been a jet of green light that had hit Tonks, and he told himself fiercely that knowing that fact would have to be enough for now.  
   
_Get to Harry_ , Remus repeated to himself, like he had to hold onto those words to keep from drowning in panic. _Get to Harry._  
   
He'd seen Harry get Dolohov in a body-bind – where had he learned to perform the spell so well? – then he’d seen Sirius push Harry out of the way of a couple spells whizzing past. Kingsley very nearly had the upper hand against Rookwood, and Remus himself was trying to hold off Rodolphus Lestrange.  
   
As Tonks fell, Bellatrix crowed triumphantly and dashed back into the fray. Sirius gave a roar and chased after her.  
   
Out of the corner of his eye, Remus saw Malfoy going for Harry – Sirius had driven Bellatrix back almost to the dais in the centre of the room – Kingsley was still duelling – Harry pulled off a solid Impediment Jinx on Malfoy – Remus finally managed to Stun Lestrange and dashed forward just in time to throw a Shield charm in front of Harry and Neville, as Malfoy took aim again.  
   
"Harry," Remus cried, "round up the others and GO!"  
   
He watched just long enough to see Harry start trying to drag Neville away, Neville's legs still jerking out of control from a _Tarantallegra_ he'd been hit with, then Remus turned to take up the fight with Malfoy, who sneered as if he couldn't even be bothered to put his full effort into duelling Remus.  
   
Remus remembered Malfoy as a smirking prefect when they'd been at school, and wondered wearily why some things never seemed to change. Malfoy's sneer lessened, at least, when Remus' well-placed _Impedimenta_ knocked him off his feet for the second time in as many minutes.  
   
Remus advanced, casting Stunning Spells as fast as he could, narrowing his focus to this one duel, but Malfoy was just as fast in blocking them.  
   
And then Dumbledore was there.  
   
Remus knew it first from the look of horror on Malfoy's face, before the man ducked and ran for it. Remus turned and saw Dumbledore descending the steps, his face furious, his progress unstoppable, his spells dragging the fleeing Death Eaters towards him one by one.  
   
With Malfoy no longer a danger, Remus scanned the room, looking for Harry, still on the steps with Neville; for Tonks, who he very much hoped seemed to be breathing, where she lay in a pile of rubble; for Sirius, so intent on his battle with Bellatrix that he hadn't even seen Dumbledore arrive.  
   
Sirius had just dodged a spell from his cousin, and he laughed, exhilarated. "Come on, you can do better than that!" he called.  
   
Then a second jet of red light caught him in the chest, and his eyes went wide in shock.  
   
He fell, and he fell, and it seemed to last forever, as his body arced away from Bellatrix's spell and into the veil that hung raggedly from the arch on the dais, and even before Sirius had completed his descent, Remus knew what that was, though he didn't want to know – Moody had called this the Death Chamber – and Sirius' face showed a bit of fear but mainly just surprise, as he completed his graceful fall.  
   
The veil fluttered.  
   
Bellatrix shrieked in triumph.  
   
Harry screamed, "SIRIUS! SIRIUS!" and hurled himself down the steps towards the dais, but Remus' body reacted in time, his arms reached out to grab Harry around the chest, to pin him there and hold him back, Remus' muscles doing what was necessary even as his heart was breaking.  
   
_How can it break again?_  
   
Words came out of Remus' mouth. "There's nothing you can do, Harry –"  
   
Harry was nearly incoherent with panic. "Get him, save him, he's only just gone through!"  
   
"It's too late, Harry."  
   
"We can still reach him!"  
   
Harry shoved and kicked and Remus registered physical pain without really feeling it. His voice even sounded calm. "There's nothing you can do, Harry, nothing, he's gone."  
   
_How can there be this much left to break?_  
   
"He hasn't gone! SIRIUS! SIRIUS!" Harry screamed.  
   
"He can't come back, Harry," Remus said, and now he finally felt the pain, the physical pain of forcing those words out. "He can't come back, because he's d–"  
   
"HE IS NOT DEAD! SIRIUS!"  
   
A jet of hot light whizzed past Remus' ear. As absurd as it seemed, the battle was not yet over. The last few Death Eaters were still putting up a fight, and Kingsley was now duelling Bellatrix, while Dumbledore drove the others together in the centre of the room.  
   
Spells were still flying, so Remus focussed everything on dragging Harry away from danger, pulling him towards where Neville still waited, because logic said he could better keep the two boys safe if he kept them together.  
   
Harry had stopped struggling now, which was somehow even worse. But Remus kept a grip on his arm, because that was what he had to do, because he had to protect Harry.  
   
Neville, miserable and helpless with his uncontrollable legs, looked up at Harry and asked through his broken nose, "Was dad man – was Sirius Black a – a friend of yours?"  
   
Harry nodded and another piece shattered off Remus' heart.  
   
"Here," Remus said to Neville – _thinking of Alice and Frank, always_ – and aimed his wand at Neville's legs, saying, " _Finite_."  
   
Neville's legs were finally still.  
   
"Let's –" Remus had to stop and try again, just to get the simple sentence out. He turned so he was facing the boys, not the archway with the veil. "Let's find the others. Where are they all, Neville?" Ron and Ginny Weasley both, and Hermione, and Lovegood, Snape had said, Luna Lovegood. Six children in this monstrous place, and twice as many Death Eaters.  
   
Neville pointed in answer, but then there was a bang and a yell, and Remus turned to see Kingsley hit the ground – crying out in pain, which meant alive – and Bellatrix grabbed her chance and ran away up the steps of the amphitheatre, deflecting a spell from Dumbledore as she went.  
   
Harry wrenched his arm free of Remus' grasp. "Harry, no!" Remus cried, but Harry was already tearing away up the steps.  
   
"SHE KILLED SIRIUS!" Harry screamed as he raced after Bellatrix. "SHE KILLED HIM! I'LL KILL HER!"  
   
For one horrible, long moment after Harry disappeared through the door out of the amphitheatre, there was nothing but ringing silence.  
   
Then Dumbledore took over. "I will see to Harry's safety," he said, speaking calmly but quickly. "Alastor, Remus, Kingsley, please find the other students, and see to yourselves and the wounded as best you can. Gather everyone in the corridor outside the Department of Mysteries if possible. Leave the Death Eaters here, as they are." He waited just long enough to be sure his instructions had been understood, then he was gone out the door after Harry.  
   
With great effort, Remus took stock:  
   
Tonks, unconscious on the ground, and he dreaded going to her, as if he might not physically survive more bad news.  
   
Kingsley and Moody, both injured, but able to move.  
   
Neville, mostly uninjured beside him.  
   
Somewhere within the labyrinth of the Department of Mysteries, Hermione, Ron, Ginny and Luna.  
   
Outside in the corridor, still unconscious but hopefully unharmed, Hestia Jones.  
   
Then there were the nine Death Eaters, powerfully bound together and silenced, but glaring with rage. Possibly more Death Eaters, injured or Stupefied, elsewhere within the Department.  
   
And himself, apparently the only man still standing and unbroken.  
   
So Remus wrenched himself together and took charge.  
   
"Please stay here," he said to Neville, who nodded at him with wide eyes.  
   
Remus went first to Kingsley, still lying prone on the dais.  
   
"Remus," Kingsley said, and managed to drag himself into a sitting position with a grunt of pain. "Damn it, I'm sorry I didn't get her."  
   
"Are you badly injured?"  
   
"It's fine, nothing that’ll kill me. Might even be able to stand up if you give me a minute."  
   
Remus nodded, and moved up the steps to Moody, who had managed to crawl around the ring of seats and recover his magical eye. "All right, Alastor?" he asked.  
   
"Fine," Moody grunted, though he seemed to be too dizzy to stand. "Go on, lad, Tonks is fine, but go see for yourself."  
   
Remus nodded and moved towards Tonks, fear hammering in his chest. He crouched beside her, felt for her pulse. She was breathing and not visibly bleeding, though she was terribly pale. Not caring who saw – what did it matter, now? – Remus bent and pressed a kiss to her forehead, too cool and pale and dotted with perspiration.  
   
"I'm sorry, Dora," he whispered, not knowing yet what he was apologising for, only that it must be something terrible. He didn’t dare reach for her hand. If he did, he might never let go.  
   
And he had to see to the children first.  
   
He stood up and called, "Neville, can you show me where the others are?"  
   
Neville nodded and started climbing the rows of stone benches towards Remus.  
   
"Kingsley," Remus asked next, his voice echoing hollowly around the room. "Do you think you can levitate Alastor and Dora out to the corridor yourself, or should I come back for you?"  
   
On the dais, Kingsley pushed himself cautiously to his feet and tested his weight. "I can do it. Go see to the students, Remus."  
   
Remus motioned to Neville, and together they left the Death Chamber the same way Bellatrix and Harry and Dumbledore had done.  
   
"Are there other Death Eaters here, besides the nine that Dumbledore caught, and Bellatrix?" Remus asked.  
   
Neville nodded once again. "Dere were dwelve id de beginning. I dink dey left one hurd in de hall wid de brophesies, ad dere's one guy who edded ub wid a baby's head id dat roob dere…" He indicated in another direction.  
   
"We'll let Dumbledore know," Remus said. If those two were no threat at the moment, then he could focus on the other tasks at hand. Find the students. Assess the damage. Get them out.  
   
They entered a room where a tank of what appeared to be brains in a foul-smelling potion had spilled across the floor. At the far end of the room, Luna Lovegood was keeping watch over their small band: Hermione unconscious, Ginny white-faced with pain, Ron unfocused and slumped against a wall. Luna looked white-faced herself, but she had an arm flung protectively over Hermione.  
   
Remus hurried to them. "You're all right? What's happened to Hermione?"  
   
"She was hit by a terrible spell, but the Death Eater who did it couldn't speak at the time, or I think it would have been much worse," Luna told him.  
   
"Something's wrong with Ron too," Ginny said, her breathing shallow.  
   
"Dumbledore came through and told us to wait here," Luna added.  
   
"Everything's okay now," Remus said, even though it wasn't. "We're going to get you out of here. Luna, can you walk?"  
   
Luna nodded, and stood up shakily. Without Remus even needing to ask, she extended an arm to Ginny, who pushed herself up and managed to hobble forward by leaning heavily on Luna.  
   
"Neville," Remus said, "please help Ron." He himself carefully lifted Hermione up. She was breathing with small, shallow breaths, and her body felt terribly still.  
   
Slowly, carefully, Remus led them out of the room with the spilled tank and found they were back in the circular black entranceway. He closed the door behind them and let the room spin.  
   
"We need to get out," Remus said, because he had no patience now for playing games with a room of identical doors. As soon as he said it, one of them simply opened and revealed the empty corridor, torches still burning in their brackets along the walls.  
   
Remus led the students out to the corridor and deposited Hermione gently to one side of the door. He found Hestia's form on the other side and slid the Invisibility Cloak off her. She too was still breathing. That was something.  
   
One of the kids behind him let out a gasp, and Luna's voice said mildly, "Oh, so she was there all along. I thought there must have been someone standing guard."  
   
Remus had just started trying to turn his mind to the question of whether or not he could safely leave them there in order to go back in for Tonks, Kingsley and Moody, when there was a flash of silver by his ear and Dumbledore's voice said, "Mediwizards coming to you. I am explaining the situation to Cornelius. Everything is under control and I will send Harry back to Hogwarts directly."  
   
Even as the Patronus faded, Remus heard someone coming from the direction of the lifts. He tensed, wand arm lifting automatically, but then he recognised the lime green of St Mungo's on the approaching team of mediwitches and mediwizards.  
   
"Meriel Codgbrook, St Mungo's," the woman at the front of the group said, extending both hands to show that she was unarmed. "Albus Dumbledore sent for us, and gave us instructions just now in the Atrium. Minister Fudge has arrived, and he and a squad of Aurors will be down shortly to collect the escaped criminals." Her lips pursed together for just a moment at the thought of those particular criminals, then her professional demeanour returned. "How many are injured?"  
   
There were so many questions he could have asked about what she must had just witnessed in the Ministry Atrium, but Remus stuck to the most immediate matter. "These five students need medical attention. Inside, there are two Aurors and one retired Auror injured, who should be out shortly, as well as another injured woman here –" he indicated Hestia, being intentionally vague about who she was and why she was at the Ministry "– and there are apparently two Death Eaters incapacitated elsewhere within the Department of Mysteries."  
   
The Healer pursed her lips again. "You-Know-Who in the Ministry of Magic and his Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries," she muttered, as she motioned her team forwards.  
   
Voldemort himself had been here?  
   
Healer Codgbrook bent over Hermione, while the rest of her team fanned out among the others. Within moments, Codgbrook indicated Hermione and Hestia and announced, "We'll need to take these two with us, but we'll send the girl back to Hogwarts as soon as she's stabilised. The rest of the students can return to Hogwarts now, but directly to the hospital wing. I'll alert Poppy Pomfrey." Even as she spoke, Remus saw her manipulate a set of beads she wore on a band around her arm, which started to glow green.  
   
"Remus," said Kingsley's voice, and Remus turned to see him leaning heavily against the doorframe that led from the Department of Mysteries. "I think Mad-Eye and Tonks had better be moved by the Healers themselves. Do you want to wait here, or should I wait here and you take the kids to Dumbledore?"  
   
"No need to take the children anywhere," Healer Codgbrook said, straightening. "I can send them directly to Madam Pomfrey by Healerkey."  
   
She held up the wrist that bore the beaded band, then nodded at two of the Healers, who had Conjured floating stretchers for Hermione and Hestia. One of them removed a similar armband, tapped it with his wand and murmured a spell. Then both of them gripped the band in one hand and a stretcher in the other, and disappeared.  
   
"Here, children," said Codgbrook, removing her own armband. "All of you need to hold onto this when I say. Give it to Madam Pomfrey when you arrive – she knows you're coming." She gathered together Ron, Neville, Luna and Ginny and placed their hands on the band. "Go," she said, and they disappeared as well.  
   
Codgbrook turned to Kingsley. "Where are your colleagues?"  
   
"In the Death Chamber," he said, and it was a mark of Codgbrook's professionalism that she showed no outward reaction at hearing that name. "I can show you the way –"  
   
"No need, I've been there," the Healer said brusquely. "Just wait here."  
   
Kingsley shifted out of the way as she led the two remaining members of her team into the Department of Mysteries, the door swinging shut behind them. After all the bustle of the Healers' work, the sudden silence of the corridor pounded in Remus’ ears.  
   
Kingsley groaned and eased himself down so he was sitting with his back against the wall. Remus gazed blankly away down the corridor and tried to think about nothing.  
   
"I'm so sorry, Remus," Kingsley said quietly.  
   
Remus nodded, but didn't look at him. He didn't know if he could stand to. Kingsley seemed to understand.  
   
As they waited in silence for the Healers to return, Remus found his mind leaping crazily through different memories, but especially ones of a particular night fifteen years before. That time, at least he hadn't been there to see it happen. Though maybe that was worse.  
   
There, that was a good, abstract puzzle, and Remus' battered mind latched onto it. Was it worse to receive the news late one night, when you hadn't been expecting anything at all, and have to live with the guilt that you hadn't been there? Or was it worse to be there to see it happen, and have to watch it over and over again behind your eyelids?  
   
"So," said Healer Codgbrook, startling Remus. She was standing alone in the doorway to the Department of Mysteries, and Tonks and Moody lay on floating stretchers to either side of her. Remus’ heart plummeted again, at the sight of Tonks lying so still. "My colleagues will be along presently with the other two…individuals, once the Aurors have joined them to assure safe transport. But I'm taking your two colleagues with me now, and you too, sir."  
   
She looked at Kingsley, who nodded and didn't look surprised when she Conjured another stretcher out of the air for him and indicated he should lie down on it.  
   
Codgbrook turned to Remus. "Are you injured?"  
   
"No." It seemed impossible. How had he come out unscathed? And how could he just go back to – his mind stuttered away from the thought.  
   
"Perhaps you'd better come along with us as well, just in case," the Healer said gently, so Remus nodded and followed her.  
   
Over the course of the next hour, Remus watched to be sure Tonks and Moody and Kingsley and Hestia and Hermione were taken off to receive proper care, then allowed the Healers to subject him to an entirely unnecessary medical check of his own, as the sun rose outside the hospital windows.  
   
At the end of it, he found himself in Tonks' room, in a chair beside her bed. Someone must have deposited him there, but he had no memory of it.  
   
Tonks looked so pale, and small, and young. He'd watched the Healers force-feed her a variety of potions, and Remus could see how her body was struggling to knit itself back together. Internal injuries, whose voice had he heard say that?  
   
After a long while, he allowed himself to reach out and take her cold hand.  
   
Remus sat and held Tonks' hand through all that long, bleak day, through the hours she was unconscious, sat and held her hand and tried not to let himself think.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned for the last chapter in two weeks!
> 
> Meanwhile, if you've been following me then you've probably seen already, but I wrote a few short Remus/Tonks stories as part of the fic event over at the [rt-morelove](http://rt-morelove.livejournal.com/) community. If you're interested in checking them out, they are:
> 
> • "[Seasons Change But We Remain](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2790632)" (Snapshots of moments throughout the DH year.)  
> • "[Can't Return, We Can Only Look](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2796566)" (Remus and Tonks just after their wedding, from the outside perspective of both Andromeda and Ted.)  
> • "[Counting Time in the Lunar Tide](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2811686)" (A little reflection on the first full moon of their marriage.)  
> • And! My friend [stereolightning](http://archiveofourown.org/users/phalaenopsis/pseuds/stereolightning) and I co-wrote a fun, early-OotP, behind-the-scenes-of-canon-events fic called "[The Pied Piper of Privet Drive, or, How the Dursleys Came to Be Short-Listed for the All-England Best Kept Suburban Lawn Competition](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3073655)."


	18. The Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the day has come: This is the final chapter of Part One! 
> 
> More notes about the upcoming Part Two are in the end note.

 

_I walk the world with a skin so thin_  
_I can wear no adequate protection_  
_Everything comes crashing in_  
  
_–Deb Talan, How Will He Find Me_

  

Tonks woke slowly, a strange kind of surfacing out of the depths of sleep, not knowing where she was, not even sure in the first moments if she quite knew _who_ she was. Gradually she struggled her way into an understanding that her body felt heavy, and that around her it smelled like hospital.

Hospital. She'd been here often enough, visiting Aurors hurt on the job, or recuperating from her own line-of-duty injuries. Tonks wondered what she'd done this time, and if it was a direct result of clumsiness, and if she was going to be yelled at for it.

_The Department of Mysteries –_

She tried to open her eyes, but they felt gummy and sluggish. There was pressure on her left hand, someone holding it?

_Harry and his friends, in the Department of Mysteries –_

Tonks struggled against the weight of her body, tried to lift her arms, and found that everything hurt. The hand holding hers squeezed tighter, and she heard the movement of someone nearby. She finally got her eyelids open and blinked into the greyish room. What time was it? Dusk? She managed to turn her head a little to the left, and saw Remus.

Remus.

It all flooded back, Snape's head in the fire, the dash to the Ministry, its eerie emptiness, the kids in the Death Chamber, Death Eaters, battle, Bellatrix –

Her mouth was bone dry, but she managed to croak, "Remus – everyone?"

The outside light that fell into the small room from one high window was faint, but it was enough to show her the ravaged lines of Remus' face.

Tonks struggled to sit up, but couldn't, pain in her abdomen pinning her to the bed. All she could do was demand an answer to the most essential question: "Who's died?"

Remus pressed his lips more tightly together, and turned his head away from her.

"Merlin, not one of the kids. Not Harry." How many people were there in the world who could affect Remus like this?

He shook his head, still not looking at her.

Tonks pressed harder against his hand. "Please. Tell me."

For a long moment, she thought he wouldn't answer her at all. Then he said, "Sirius."

But that couldn't be. Sirius was alive and in the heat of battle, grinning, thrumming with energy, alive –

"He fell through the veil," Remus whispered, still looking away, "when Bellatrix cursed him, and I had – I had to hold Harry back – or he would have –" He was gazing blindly in the direction of the window.

Tonks wanted everything at once: to scream, to promise Remus it wasn't his fault, to gather him in her arms, to sink back into her dreamless sleep where she hadn't known this and could pretend she still didn't know. But she couldn't do anything, because she couldn't even move her body, and her throat constricted around any words she might have said.

"Not your fault," she managed to croak out. She would not think about what he had just told her. She would only think of Remus, Remus hurt and needing her. "Please, Remus – please, look at me."

Slowly, he dragged his eyes back to her. "I would have gone after him," he said, his voice flat. "I would have gone after him if I hadn't had to keep Harry from going after him. I should have got him back. Or maybe I should have followed him."

"Remus," she whispered, "Stop."

He pursed his lips again and gently slid his hand out of hers, to worry the knuckles of one hand with the fingers of the other. Tonks felt the loss of his hand, cold where there had been warmth.

"Are all the kids okay?" she asked, feeling grief pressing down on her chest even as she forced herself to ask the necessary questions.

"Yes."

"And the others? Moody and Kingsley? Hestia?"

"Yes. Dumbledore came, and caught the rest of the Death Eaters."

"Where's Harry now?"

"Back at school."

"Did you see him – after –?"

Remus shook his head.

"I hope he's okay," Tonks whispered.

Remus laughed, a harsh, short sound that wasn't like him at all.

"Remus –" Tonks' head pounded, and her ribs ached. But it was Remus' distance that hurt the most.

He was still facing away as he whispered, "I can't – I'm sorry –"

She reached out for his hand, and again, he pulled away.

A Healer bustled into the room then, before Tonks could get Remus to come any closer to her. The Healer tsked at Tonks for being awake, and at Remus for getting her worked up, and tipped another potion down Tonks' throat that began to knock her out immediately.

"Remus," Tonks mumbled, as sleep dragged her down. "You too, you have to rest…" But she could tell he wasn't listening.

When she woke up again, he was gone.

– – – – –

Tonks spent the next couple days in and out of a hazy sleep. She had a sense that her parents were there, often, and that Healers moved efficiently in and out of the room, but she always faded out again before she could focus on anyone.

The first time she regained real consciousness, Moody was sitting by her bed and holding a copy of the Sunday Prophet, still neatly folded. He thrust the paper at her and grunted, "Thought you'd want to see that," which Tonks understood to mean, _It's good to see you and I'm glad you're all right._

Gingerly, Tonks slid herself up against the headboard of the bed, glad to find she was finally able to do so. She took the proffered paper and read, in screaming bold letters, " _HE WHO MUST NOT BE NAMED RETURNS_."

She double-checked the dateline and looked at Moody. "It took them until now to get this in the paper?"

"Nah, they had some articles the last couple days, but this is the first they've had the whole package in. Historical background. Local colour."

Tonks skimmed the main article, but there was nothing in it she didn't already know, except that there had been a mass revolt of the Dementors at Azkaban. That wasn't exactly a pleasant thought, but it was hardly unexpected if Voldemort was now acting in the open.

_Wait._

She looked up at Moody. "Voldemort…came out into the open? He came to the Ministry himself?"

"You missed quite a bit while you were out, kid. I didn't see it myself, but apparently he and Dumbledore had it out in the Ministry Atrium, and Fudge and a whole passel of Aurors arrived just in time to see. Which is a stroke of luck for us, really. The Ministry's finally on board, and the Aurors are hunting Death Eaters now. You've got your work cut out for you when you're back on your feet."

"Did we…did we at least get some of them?"

"All the Death Eaters who were at the Ministry that night, except Bellatrix Lestrange."

There was something about the way he said Bellatrix's name, but Tonks tried to push it away from her, postpone thinking about it. "And you got the kids out safely?" she asked.

"They're all fine. Granger was injured the worst of them, but even she's up and about. Shacklebolt had a few broken bones, but he's fine, Jones is fine. McGonagall and Hagrid are both back at Hogwarts."

Tonks closed her eyes, so she wouldn't have to see Moody's face when she asked. "And Sirius –?"

"Really is dead. I'm sorry, lass."

Tonks nodded, trying to put that fact somewhere far away, to be thought about later, when she felt somewhere near capable of coping with it. She nodded again, harder, and opened her eyes. "And Remus –?"

Moody hesitated, which was unlike him. "You'd best give him some time."

"Where is he? Is he okay?" Tonks felt fear shudder through her. If something had happened to Remus while she was lying here senseless –

"He's unharmed," Moody said, cutting into her worries. "The Weasleys've talked him into staying with them for a bit, but nobody sees much of him. Give him time," he repeated, more sharply, and Tonks thought suddenly of the long-dead wife Moody never talked about.

She steeled herself to ask the question she desperately wanted not to have to ask. "Who killed Sirius, Mad-Eye? Was it Bellatrix?"

"Yes."

Rage flared up in her, sharp flames of it leaping even higher above the grief already flooding her heart. How could her aunt hate them so much? How could anyone murder their own family?

She didn't ask Moody that, though. She schooled her face into the hardened scowl of an Auror, flipped the newspaper to the next page, and continued reading the Prophet's sorry attempt at coverage of Voldemort's return. Moody sat by her bed as she read, keeping her silent company.

– – – – –

Tonks was released from St Mungo's on Monday, but Scrimgeour insisted she take the week off before returning to work. That gave her far too much idle time to think and brood, but at least it left her free to join the others when they met Harry off the Hogwarts Express on Thursday.

Scrimgeour had come by St Mungo's personally, his lips pressed tightly together and his visit brief, to tell Tonks she had a week's paid leave. "Injury in the line of duty," he had decreed, although of course she hadn't been authorised to be at the Ministry that night. He didn't go so far as to apologise for having gone along with Fudge's idiocy all year, but his rueful manner gave Tonks hope that in the future, maybe he'd listen more to those of them with sense.

Thursday morning, Tonks put on her most cheerful expression and her most cheerful hair and a cheerfully unprofessional T-shirt. They all owed Harry that much.

She met the others at King's Cross, outside the barrier that led to Platform 9 ¾. Moody was there in his ridiculous bowler hat; Molly and Arthur looked serious and had managed to dress more or less like Muggles. Fred and George turned up in outrageous dragonskin jackets that would have made Sirius proud.

Tonks winced and pushed that thought away, and had just time to check that her hair hadn't slipped from its bright shade of pink, before Molly engulfed her in a hug. Tonks hugged back, surprised but grateful.

Remus showed up last, just before the train was due. He looked terrible, his skin so pale it was nearly grey.

"Lupin," said Moody, who'd spotted him first, and extended his hand as Remus approached them.

Remus shook Moody's hand, then allowed Molly to put her arms around him. "I'm fine," he said, so automatically that Tonks knew he'd been saying it over and over for days, and never meaning it. She'd been doing the same.

So she threw herself at Remus and hugged him tightly, then released him again before he'd had a chance to do more than start in surprise. She saw a bit of life flicker in his eyes, then it was gone again.

"I'm glad you're all right, Dora," he said.

She wanted so desperately to get through to him, to get him to share with her what he was feeling, even if it was all horrible, even if it was all grief and rage. She felt the same. They shared the same loss, and yet Remus had never felt further away.

A train whistle sounded, and they all turned expectantly towards the barrier.

Ron and Ginny came through first, then Harry, then Hermione, and Molly embraced them all in turn. Tonks saw Remus visibly pull himself together, then step in to greet Harry, while the other kids were admiring Fred and George's jackets. Remus even managed a small smile as he explained to Harry why they'd all come – to instil the fear of Merlin in Harry's worthless relatives.

Though Remus, of course, was too polite to put it in those terms.

By now Hermione's parents had joined the group and things were getting rather chaotic. But Moody pointed out Harry's aunt, uncle and cousin, looking sorely out of place and annoyed about it to boot, and Arthur led the way across to them, Harry trailing anxiously behind the adults.

They did their bit threatening the Dursleys; Tonks couldn't help admiring how Remus managed to sound so very _civil_ about it, and of course Moody was always wonderfully intimidating, even when he wasn't trying to be.

Tonks looked at them, her friends and colleagues, gathered here to make sure Harry had someone in the world looking out for him. It made it all seem a tiny bit more bearable. Sirius certainly would have approved – especially of the way the uncle jumped in fear every time Moody spoke.

They watched as first Harry left the station with his relatives, then Hermione with her family.

"We'll see you all tomorrow," Molly said, as she began to gather her family to her.

It would be the first full Order meeting since the events at the Ministry. The Weasleys had offered the use of the Burrow for meetings, while the ownership status of 12 Grimmauld Place remained uncertain. Apparently, Emmeline and a couple of the others had gone to Headquarters immediately afterwards to take out the most important documents, just in case ownership of the house really had changed hands. But no one had set foot inside since, nor were they allowed to do so until its legal status was cleared up.

The Weasleys were ready to go and Tonks looked round again for Remus, but he was already gone.

"Give him time," Moody's voice growled close to her ear, and for one moment all Tonks could think was that it was _Sirius_ who should be there keeping up a running commentary, Sirius who should be the one giving her unsolicited Remus advice. It was all so unfair that it made her chest ache with fury, and for a precarious moment, Tonks felt closer to throwing a tantrum than she'd been since she was a small child.

But she wasn't a child, she was an adult and a member of the Order of the Phoenix, and there was a hell of a lot of work to be done.

So Tonks nodded to Moody, and to Molly and Arthur as they departed with their family, and she left King's Cross with her head held high, ready to tackle that work.

– – – – –

END OF PART ONE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap for the first half of this story! 
> 
> The second half, covering the Half-Blood Prince year, will be along in a bit... The first draft is complete, and the revision of the first draft is almost complete. Then my beta will read it, then I expect to revise a bunch more before being satisfied enough to start posting. So it'll be a number of weeks, maybe even a couple months, before it's ready to start posting, BUT it's definitely coming along, and much faster than I'd ever hoped, too!
> 
> For now, I'm marking this story as "complete" (18/18 chapters, since that's indeed the entirety of Part One), ~~but once Part Two is ready, I'll change that to incomplete, and continue posting new chapters AS PART OF THIS SAME STORY. (Not as a separate story in a series, or anything like that.) So do bookmark or subscribe or whatever you like, if you want to stay informed when this story continues into its second half.~~
> 
> **UPDATE:** Yup, yup, changed my mind! This story has since split into two parts, and the continuation will post as a separate story ("Raise Your Lantern High"). I'll add a "chapter" to the end of this story with instructions on how to find the next story, so that anyone who subscribed to the story in order to be notified when it updated definitely gets that information.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! Comments, feedback, thoughts all very much appreciated. :-)


	19. [NOT A CHAPTER – INFO ON WHERE TO FIND PART 2!]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not a chapter; this is just a note explaining where to find Part 2 of the story.

Dear lovely, patient readers!

Sorry, that took a bit longer than planned, to get the second half of this story ready to post. And in the meantime, I decided the story is in fact better served as a two-part series, rather than all posted as one continuous story...

So THIS story, "Be the Light in My Lantern" (Part 1, the Order of the Phoenix year, 18 chapters) is complete and will remain as it is. But the second half of the series, "Raise Your Lantern High" (Part 2, the Half-Blood Prince year, 22 chapters) [can be found here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5417678/chapters/12517565). Together, they now make up the ["Be the Light in My Lantern" series](http://archiveofourown.org/series/325274).

Also, just for fun, I created "mixtapes" of the songs for each chapter of this story, here: [Be the Light in My Lantern Mixtapes](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4867541/chapters/11157113).

Thanks so much to all of you who've stuck with this story for so long. I hope you enjoy Part 2!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Be the Light in My Lantern Mixtapes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4867541) by [starfishstar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starfishstar/pseuds/starfishstar)




End file.
